Harry Potter ~ Bound by the Scar
by K. Ashley
Summary: Harry struggles with new forms of Dark magic, while Draco fights the evil that awaits him. When circumstances land Harry and Draco in the same boat, they'll be forced to set aside their differences and unite against the growing power of the Dark Lord.
1. Dudley's Bloody Nose

Harry awoke to the sound of a very noisy vacuum cleaner in the corridor. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, wanting very much to go back to sleep. He had been having the most wonderful dream: He had won the Quidditch cup for Gryffindor, and had been recruited by a scout to play for England's very own Quidditch team, the Rockets. Everyone adored him, and Draco Malfoy, his most potent enemy, had been begging him for an autograph just as the vacuum woke him up.

Harry sat up slowly and reached for his glasses, which were sitting on the bed table where he had left them the night before. The vacuum kept going. Harry looked at the clock on the wall opposite the bed. It was seven twenty-three in the morning. How rude of the housekeepers to be vacuuming at such an early hour, he thought. He looked around the small motel room in which he had been living for the past week. It was tiny and shabby, but it was heaven compared to Number Four Privet Drive, where his horrible aunt and uncle lived, along with their equally horrible son, Dudley.

The Dursleys had raised Harry from infancy, if you could call it "raising" at all. In Harry's eyes, they had more accurately "tortured" him from infancy. And five years ago, when they found out that Harry was a wizard, the Dursleys' dislike for him turned into downright hate. Harry had returned to Privet Drive two months before, after having completed his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He loved going to school, for that's where his real family was. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, his very best friends, had both invited Harry to spend the summer holiday at their houses, and even Hagrid, the keeper of the grounds at Hogwarts, had offered a place in his hut to Harry, but the Dursleys had been firm in their determination to make Harry miserable. 

They made him come back to their house, only to make him their slave for the summer. Aunt Petunia employed Harry daily in the most disgusting chores she could think of, such as cleaning hair from every drain in the house and emptying the garbage can every two hours. Uncle Vernon had been equally mean, sending Harry on various impossible errands, such as finding purple moustache clippers or a belt big enough to fit around Dudley's enormous middle.

Harry no longer had the power of intimidation over them, for they had found out two years before that underage wizards aren't aloud to do magic outside of Hogwarts. Therefore, whenever Dudley got bored and decided to amuse himself by pounding on Harry with his fat fists, Harry just had to fight back. 

However, Harry was no longer such an easy target for Dudley's violence. Over the past year, Harry had had quite a growth spurt, and was now taller than Dudley by several inches, though Dudley still outweighed him by two hundred pounds at least. The last fight Dudley picked with Harry had been a week ago. Harry had just returned from shopping for a double-ended shovel for Uncle Vernon, which he hadn't been able to find, and had gone up to his room to do some of his homework for Hogwarts. Dudley, having just finished his third bowl of double chocolate fudge ice cream, was bored and decided to heave himself up the stairs to bother Harry.

"What are you doing?" Dudley asked as he slammed open the door to Harry's room and entered. "More of that freak homework?"

"Yes, Dudley, I'm doing my homework," said Harry calmly, not looking up from his parchment. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to concentrate." That had been a mistake. Dudley proceeded to yell very loudly in Harry's face, "WHAT, HARRY? YOU NEED TO CONCENTRATE? IS THAT WHAT YOU SAID? SORRY, I COULDN'T HEAR YOU! HERE, LET ME HELP YOU TO CONCENTRATE, COUSIN!" And with that, Dudley picked up Harry's ink bottle and poured it over Harry's nearly-finished homework.

That was it. Harry had had enough. Throwing the parchment aside, Harry leapt up and tackled Dudley, knocking him to the ground with an enormous thud. Rage had overcome him. He had spent all these years being bullied by Dudley, and he was finished with it. Dudley let out a howl as Harry punched him over and over on the nose. 

"This'll teach you to leave me alone!" Harry yelled as he beat up the flailing Dudley. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came running up the stairs as they heard the commotion. Aunt Petunia fainted when she saw the blood on Dudley's fat face, and Uncle Vernon hurried over to stop Harry. He pulled Harry off of Dudley, who just lay there whimpering like a child. 

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" shouted Uncle Vernon, holding Harry by the collar of his shirt. Dudley managed to sit up. 

"I just came up to help him with his homework," sputtered Dudley, blood still pouring from his nose, "and he jumped on me! He's gone mad, father! Harry's gone mad!"

"That's not what happened and you know it!" Harry yelled at Dudley, who was smirking at him through the swelling of his face. Uncle Vernon shook Harry.

"That's it! That is quite enough!" he said, his big purple face now turning red with rage. He released Harry's collar and went to the closet, where he began throwing Harry's few clothes onto the floor. "You'll be packed in ten minutes!" yelled Uncle Vernon, now tossing Harry's school books onto the pile. "I'll be in the car. You'll be down in ten minutes with all your pitiful belongings, and then you're out of this house for good! I've done my duty by you, and yet you insist upon being a plague in this home, so I've done with you!" Uncle Vernon's eyes were popping out of his head as he struggled to be calm. When he had finished dismantling Harry's room, he pulled Dudley to his feet and left the room. 

Aunt Petunia, who had awakened and was now leaning on the doorway, hurried behind them wailing about Dudley's nose. Harry could hear her screaming from downstairs, "He's broken it! That monster of a boy has broken our Duddlekin's beautiful nose!"

A small smile broke onto Harry's face. "That stupid git deserved to have his fat nose broken," he said to Hedwig, his pet snowy owl, whose cage lay on the floor where Uncle Vernon had thrown it. He began to pack his things, wondering where Uncle Vernon would take him. He didn't really care where he took him. Anywhere had to be better than here.

Once his trunk was packed, Harry dragged it downstairs, Hedwig sitting on his shoulder. He could hear Aunt Petunia fussing over Dudley's nose as he passed the kitchen, and, out in the driveway, he could hear the motor of Uncle Vernon's large car.

Vague worry began to interrupt Harry's feeling of triumph. Where could Uncle Vernon possibly be taking him? He wouldn't just leave him on the streets, would he? After all, Harry's pockets were full of wizard money, but that wouldn't help him a bit in the Muggle world. He went outside, dragging his heavy trunk with difficulty, and found Uncle Vernon waiting in the car. He didn't make any move to help Harry load his trunk into the back seat, nor did he say anything when Harry buckled himself in next to him. He simply backed the car out of the driveway and took off, as if Harry wasn't there.

They drove for a while before Harry got up the nerve to speak. "Where are you taking me?" he asked. Uncle Vernon grinned under his thick moustache. 

"I'm getting rid of you for good," he said. Harry's heart raced. What exactly did he mean by that? They drove for nearly an hour before Uncle Vernon pulled the vehicle into the parking lot of a very old, very shabby motel. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a fifty pound note.

"You'll take this," he said, shoving the note into Harry's hand, "and you'll do what you can with it. I shouldn't give you a single pound, seeing that you've been nothing but trouble to me since the day we found you on our doorstep. But, I am a decent citizen, so I am giving you this generous charity - and I don't expect to see your scrawny face ever again, do you understand?" He turned in his seat to look at Harry.

Harry just nodded. "Well, go on! Get out! Don't you know I've got things to do?" Uncle Vernon said quite cheerfully to him as Harry opened the door. After he had pulled his trunk out of the car, Uncle Vernon drove off without another word. 

Harry stood befuddled for a while in the lot. He looked up at the motel, then down at the fifty pounds in his hand. Even though this was no extravagant place, he doubted very much that fifty pounds would last very long. Panic swept over him. What if he were forced to live on the streets and starve? What if he weren't able to ever get back to Hogwarts? 

These thoughts were calmed briefly by a light nip on his ear. Hedwig, still on is shoulder, nestled her soft feathers against him reassuringly. Harry stroked her bright white feathers with his fingertips and took a deep breath. Taking hold of his trunk, he headed for the motel door.

The Muggle man at the front desk was quite polite to Harry, though he looked at him strangely. Harry supposed it wasn't too often that this man encountered teenaged boys with large trunks and owls on their shoulders. The man handed Harry his room key, Harry handed him the money, and headed off to his room, number 212.

So, Harry had spent the past week living in the motel, eating small meals, trying to save his money. He sent letters to Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid by way of Hedwig, telling them of his predicament, so now all he had to do was wait.

And here he was, on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, listening grumpily to the vacuuming outside his door. He hadn't heard from either of his friends, yet, nor had he received any notice from Hogwarts, telling him which supplies he would need for his sixth year. He was a bit worried, for the fifty pounds had run out after two nights, but he had been able to persuade the manager to take some gold Galleons as pay instead. Even though it didn't count as real money in the Muggle world, it was real gold, which had to amount to something. Still, Harry wondered how long the manager would accept large gold coins in place of real money.

He got out of bed and pulled on his clothes, then went to the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, gloomy and tired. He tried to straighten his unruly black hair, but to no avail. It insisted on doing whatever it wanted, just as always. Hedwig sat on the bureau, picking at a bit of leftover meat from the small dinner Harry had had the night before. 

Suddenly, the housekeeper who was vacuuming outside Harry's door let out a tremendous shriek. The scream was followed by a familiar voice. "Oh, how amazing!" said the voice. "What sort of machinery is this? Is it _cleaning_? Is that what it does? What extraordinary ingenuity! You Muggles never fail to amaze me, ha, ha!" 

Harry went to the door and opened it, to find Ron's father, Mr. Weasley, examining the still-running vacuum cleaner, while the housekeeper stood against the wall, her hands over her mouth in shock. Harry didn't blame her - Mr. Weasley did look odd in his bright green robes. When he saw Harry, Mr. Weasley put down the vacuum and hurried to him, his hand extended. 

"Hello, Harry! What a wonderful place this is! Did you see the cleaning device?" he said hurriedly, shaking Harry's hand with excitement. Mr. Weasley was fascinated with Muggle inventions of all kinds, and Harry supposed he had never seen a vacuum before. 

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, motioning him inside the motel room. They went in and Harry closed the door behind them. 

"Think I gave the poor woman quite a shock when I Apparated in the corridor," said Mr. Weasley, scratching his balding head. The hair he did have was fiery red, just like the rest of his family. "I suppose Muggles aren't used to that sort of thing."

Harry chuckled. "No, I suppose not," he said, leaning against the bureau. Mr. Weasley rummaged around in his cloak until he found a small envelope. He handed it to Harry.

"Ron was worried about you, so I promised him I'd come help if I could," he said as Harry opened the envelope. Inside was a letter from Ron:

Harry,

If you are reading this, then that means my dad is with you. I got your letter, but couldn't send a reply because that stupid excuse for an owl, Pigwideon, couldn't find you. Anyway, mum and dad said you can come and stay with us for the last couple of weeks of holiday, and we'll take you to Diagon Alley to get your school things. Hermione will meet us there. Sorry about the Dursleys. They're idiots anyway.

See you when you get here,

Ron

PS: Happy Birthday, Harry!

Harry smiled at Mr. Weasley. "Thanks," he said. Mr. Weasley nodded.

"Can't let one of the family go it alone, can we?" he said, patting Harry's shoulder. "Now, let's see, we'll gather your things and carry them downstairs - I saw a fireplace in the lobby, so we can use that." 

With that, they set to work re-packing all of Harry's things, and carried them with some difficulty down to the lobby. They got a lot of strange looks from the motel employees, and Mr. Weasley asked politely if they might be left alone for a moment. The staff went hesitantly into another room, and Mr. Weasley took a small bag from his pocket. He opened it and handed it to Harry, then stepped back. "You go first, Harry," he said. "Remember, just concentrate and speak clearly." 

Harry nodded. He took a pinch of the green Floo Powder from the bag, threw it onto the flames in the fireplace, which shot up green, and stepped inside. The flames tickled him as he spoke: "The Burrow," he said. That was the name of the Weasleys' small house in the countryside. He felt a tugging at his navel, and began to see a whirl of colors before him as he passed various fireplaces. He concentrated as hard as he could, because the last time he had traveled by Floo Powder, he'd found himself on a particularly shady street called Knockturn Alley. 

When finally things settled, Harry stepped out into the Weasleys' kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was standing at the sink, supervising the dishes that were quietly washing themselves. She spun around when she heard Harry, and rushed to help him pull his trunk out of the fireplace. "Oh, Harry, dear, how are you? Did you get here all right? Here, let's take your things up to Ron's room," she said hugging Harry and then pulling with all her might to get the large trunk up the narrow, rickety staircase.

"Wait, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, "I'll get that!" He took the trunk handle from her hand and began the long, heavy task of lugging it up the stairs. Halfway up, Harry stopped in front of Fred's and George's bedroom, where loud music was playing. Fred and George were Ron's older twin brothers, who were a year older than Ron and Harry. Harry laughed to himself as a small explosion sounded from inside the room. The twins were always getting into some sort of trouble.

He continued up the stairs until he reached the very top, where Ron's door stood open. Harry knocked politely on the door frame before he entered, to find Ron laying on the bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. 

"Harry!" said Ron, tossing the magazine aside and jumping up to help Harry with his things. "Been wondering when you'd get here, Harry. Thought dad had gotten lost!" They put Harry's trunk in the corner, and let Hedwig out of her cage so she could stretch her wings. She gave a small screech at Harry and then flew out of the open window. 

"Thanks, Ron, for letting me stay here. I was beginning to worry that I'd be tossed out onto the street," said Harry, sitting on the edge of Ron's bed, which was covered, as it had been for years, with a bright orange spread with black lettering that read: "Chudley Cannons," Ron's favorite Quidditch team.

"I still can't believe the Dursleys kicked you out like that," Ron said, shaking his head. Ron was even taller than Harry, and had fiery red hair and freckles. "But I still think you're better off without them."

Harry nodded. He felt the same way - that he was much better being away from his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Still, he felt a pang of hurt when he thought of them completely disowning him. No matter how much he disliked them, they were his family, and he still wished, deep down in his heart, that they would love him. Harry panicked for a moment when he felt his nose begin to tingle as if he were about to cry. He straightened up, blinked a couple of times, and shoved the Dursleys from his mind.

"Have you gotten your Hogwarts letter, yet?" Harry asked Ron. Ron shook his head. 

"No. They're getting a bit lazy, I think. The letters come later and later every year." Even as they spoke, two fat tawny owls flew in through the open window, dropped two yellow envelopes on the bed, and flew out again.

"Like magic!" Harry said as they picked up their Hogwarts letters. They read through the supply list for sixth year students. It consisted of the usual things - books, ink, parchment, cauldrons. But this year there was a new addition to the list. "All sixth year students must bring their own Bandywits, per Professor Dumbledore's request," read Harry out loud. He looked at Ron, confused. "What's a Bandywit?" he asked. 

Ron shook his head. "Sorry, Harry, I don't know."


	2. Hermione's Surprise

Just then, the sound of footsteps could be heard running up the stairs. "Hullo, Harry!" shouted Fred as he and George entered Ron's room. 

"Alright, there, Harry?" asked George. Harry nodded.

"Hullo, Fred! Hi, George!" he said. Ron stood up and handed George his Hogwarts list.

"Do you know what a Bandywit is?" he asked. George stared at the list, his brow furrowed. Fred read it over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Ron, never heard of it," said George, handing the list back to him. "Bet dad would know, though." Ron nodded.

"I'll ask him at supper," he said. Suddenly, another owl flew in through the window and dropped a letter and a small package on Harry's lap. "Popular, today," Ron said, sitting next to Harry. Fred and George came closer as well.

Harry opened the letter first. "It's from Hermione," he said. He read it out loud:

"Dear Harry, Ron said you'd be staying at his house, so I knew I could reach you there. Happy Birthday! I am so sorry to hear about what happened with the Dursleys. Please don't be too upset, they don't deserve someone like you, anyway. I told Ron that I would meet you all at Diagon Alley on next Tuesday. And I'm bringing a surprise! Well, I'll see you then. Give my best to Ron and his family. I hope you like your present!

'Til Tuesday, Hermione 

P.S. Do any of you know what a Bandywit is?"

"I wonder what surprise she's bringing," said Ron.

Fred prodded the package, still on Harry's lap. "Well, open it, then!" he said. Harry picked it up and tore the paper off. Opening the box, he found a wristwatch. He took it out of the box and examined it. It was silver, with a blue face. Like all other magical clocks, it had but one hand, which was pointing at the moment to "Time for lunch." The rest of the face was circled by similar alarms, such as "Time for bed," "Time to brush your teeth," and "Time you did something worth while."

"Nice watch," Ron said. Harry put it on his wrist.

"It is," he said. "Hermione always gives good presents." Just then, Mrs. Weasley could be heard in the kitchen.

"Come and eat! Lunch is ready!" The four boys scrambled down the narrow staircase, nearly knocking Ron's sister, Ginny, down as she came out of her room. She was younger than Ron and Harry, and, just like the rest, had bright red hair. Harry stopped to help her regain her balance. 

"Hi, Ginny," he said, "having a good summer?" She just nodded and turned a bit pink. Everyone knew she had a crush on Harry. In the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley had set the large wooden table with various sandwiches, fruits, and crackers. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George sat on one side of the table, and Ginny and Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley sat on the other. Percy, who was a year older than Fred and George, was away doing an internship at the Ministry of Magic. Percy had always been a high achiever, and was head boy during his last year at Hogwarts. Harry didn't mind him, but Ron was glad to have him gone for a while. "Finally a break from his constant state of snobbery," Ron had said when he told Harry where Percy was. 

After finishing his sandwich, Ron cleared his throat. "Mum, dad?" he said, a glob of mustard on is lower lip, "Do either of you know what a Bandywit is?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged glances.

"Why do you want to know about Bandywits?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Ron looked at Harry, then back at her.

"It's on our supplies list for school," he explained. "Says that Professor Dumbledore requires all sixth years to have their own Bandywit." Ron's parents stared at him for a while, then turned to each other.

"I thought Bandywits were outlawed years ago," said Mrs. Weasley in an attempt at a whisper. Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"No, they were never outlawed, though there was quite a lot of controversy about them after You-Know-Who's reign. They say he used them quite frequently to find his victims," he said. Harry's head spun. Why would Dumbledore require students to have something that was so controversial?

"Well," said Ron, leaning forward, "what are they?" Mr. Weasley took a breath.

"A Bandywit," he said, "is a very small creature, sort of like a fairy, but not so sparkly. They were once used to carry messages, much like we use owls today." Harry and Ron listened intently. "But, during the days of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, many Bandywits turned against their owners, giving away their whereabouts to You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort," Harry said, becoming irritated with the nicknames. Mr. Weasley just nodded. 

"But why would Dumbledore want us to have Bandywits, if they are so untrustworthy?" asked Ron. His parents both shook their heads.

"I dunno, Ron," said his father. "I dunno."

*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*

The following week passed quite pleasantly. It was almost enough to completely erase the Dursleys from Harry's mind. He and Ron spent the afternoons practicing Quidditch in a nearby field. Ron told Harry that he planned to try out for the Gryffindor team this year, but was extremely doubtful that he'd make it. 

"Go on, Ron," Harry told him, "you're great. With all the practice you've done, they'll be begging to have you!" Ron had just rolled his eyes and muttered a small, unenthusiastic, "thanks," and they had gone back to practicing. 

Harry was secretly hoping to become the team's captain, now that Oliver Wood had graduated. He knew it would be tough to fill Wood's shoes, but the thought of being captain was enough to persuade him to try. 

Finally, Tuesday came, and it was time to go to Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies. Harry and Ron were eager to get their Bandywits, and to see Hermione and what surprise she would be bringing with her. The whole family got up early that morning and piled into the small living room to use the fireplace. Ginny was excited to finally be getting her own owl, (they hadn't been able to afford one, before), and Fred and George were just glad this was the last time they'd be school shopping.

"Alright, everyone," said Mrs. Weasley, as she adjusted her hat in the small mirror over the mantelpiece, "are we ready?" They all said they were, and she passed around the Floo Powder so they could each take a pinch. Fred and George went first, followed by Ron and Harry, then Ginny, and finally Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

As Harry stepped out of the fireplace in Flourish and Blott's bookstore, he felt a wave of happiness wash over him. He was quite looking forward to another year at Hogwarts. He couldn't wait to see Hermione, and Hagrid, too. 

Mr. Weasley gave a small amount of money to each of his children - Harry had his own - then sent them off to get their supplies. "We'll meet you back here in two hours!" he shouted as they dispersed. Ron and Harry went straight to the vast white steps of Gringotts bank, where they were to meet Hermione.

Only a few minutes went by before she came sprinting up to them, her cheeks rosy with the sunshine. Ron's stomach gave a strange little flip when he saw her, and he hoped with all his might that it didn't show in his face. Her hair was not as frizzy as it used to be, and she had developed quite a bit over the summer, Ron noticed.

"Hello, Harry! Hello, Ron!" she said excitedly, giving them each a hug. "How are you both?"

"Great!" said Harry. Ron just nodded, feeling at a loss for words, for some reason. Hermione grinned at them. 

"Come, I've brought a surprise!" she said, taking them both by the hand and pulling them down the steps and toward Madame Malkin's robe shop. "She's in here, getting her Hogwarts robes," she said, as they entered the shop.

"She?" Harry repeated, wondering just what Hermione had brought with her. Hermione smiled and led them to the back of the shop, where a pretty girl with long, golden-brown hair was coming out of the dressing room. Hermione took the girl by the arm.

"Harry, Ron, I'd like you to meet Felicity. She's an exchange student from the United States, and she'll be joining us at Hogwarts this year," said Hermione. The pretty girl, Felicity, smiled warmly at Harry and Ron, and shook their hands. 

This time it was Harry's stomach that fluttered. 


	3. Buying Bandywits

Chapter 3:

"Felicity has been living with me for the past few weeks, as an exchange student," explained Hermione proudly. Harry just nodded, caught up in Felicity's beauty. Her face was perfect, he thought - no blemishes or anything. Her eyes were a bright blue, which contrasted quite nicely with her dark hair. 

"Well, welcome to England," said Ron with a smile. He nudged Harry.

"Oh, yeah, um, welcome," Harry stuttered. Felicity smiled.

"Thank you so much," she said, her accent sending a thrill up Harry's spine. "I'm really excited to see Hogwarts - I've heard so much about it. I've also heard a lot about you, Harry Potter," she said, smiling at him, her eyes roaming briefly to his forehead, where the lightning bolt scar resided. "Nice to finally meet the hero of the wizarding world." Harry was caught up in her warm smile.

"Um, thanks," he said, feeling his face grow hot. "But really, I'm no hero."

"And humble, too," said Felicity, her blue eyes locked on his. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, trying to hide smirks.

"Where did you go to school before?" asked Ron, trying to break the awkwardness.

"Liberty School of Magic," explained Felicity. "In New York." Ron's eyes widened.

"You don't mean-" he started.

Felicity laughed. "Yes, it was inside - and underneath - the Statue of Liberty herself," she said. Harry was quite impressed. Apparently even people who had known about the wizarding world their whole lives, such as Ron, didn't even know the Statue was really a school. "It's quite a trick hiding it from Muggles," said Felicity, looking back and forth from Harry to Ron. "Our principal, Mr. Harwood, made it so there are sort of two dimensions inside - one dimension in which Muggles trudge up and down the long staircases, enjoying the tourist attraction, and another dimension in which we trudge up and down the stairs, going to class. He's really a great wizard."

By this time Madame Malkin's Robe Shop was becoming quite crowded, so the four of them made their way back out into the Alley. "We really should get to shopping," said Hermione. "Where should we go next?" They deliberated for a short while, then decided to begin at the supplies store and work their way back down Diagon Alley to Flourish and Blott's which is where they had to meet Ron's parents, anyway. 

They went from shop to shop, buying their school things and laughing and talking merrily. Harry noticed that Ron kept forcing his way in between him and Hermione, but he didn't mind. He knew how Ron felt about her, even if Ron had never told him. Besides, that left Harry to walk next to Felicity, something which he did not mind a bit. 

Finally they came to the pet shop, Sheba's Creature Emporium, and went inside. It was dimly lit inside the shop, and smelled strongly of animals. Harry wrinkled his nose as they passed a cage full of rats, and he wondered how often they cleaned it. They approached the counter, where a very tall old woman stood examining her fingernails. 

"Excuse me," said Harry, "we're looking for Bandywits." The old woman looked up at them and smiled a nearly toothless smile.

"Ahh, sixth years," she murmured. They just nodded. "Right this way." They followed her to the back of the store, where there were stacks of little brass cages, much like bird cages. Inside each cage sat a small creature, with golden skin and deep blue hair. They all wore tiny clothes of a brown fabric. Harry thought they were quite pretty little things, and bent to examine one more closely. 

To his surprise, the Bandywit he was looking at sprang to its feet and pointed its tiny finger at him. "What be you looking at?" it demanded in a tiny, shrill little voice. Harry shook his head and backed away.

"Sorry," he said as the Bandywit sat back down and folded its arms indignantly. The old woman cackled.

"They don't like being in these cages," she said. "Now, just take a look about until you find one that suits you. They all have very unique personalities, so choose wisely." Then the old woman left them to decide.

"Are they boys or girls?" asked Hermione. She was quite justified in her question - all of the Bandywits had long, curling blue hair, and their faces were very pretty and feminine. At the same time, their tiny bodies were muscular and sturdy, much like that of men.

"They don't have a gender," said Felicity, picking up one of the cages and peering at its little inhabitant. "They're just Bandywits. My family used to have them to help in carrying messages for my dad's business. They're very helpful, but can be really annoying." As she said this, the Bandywit in the cage stuck out its tongue at her and made a very rude sound. "Nope, not this one," she said, putting the cage back where it was.

They spent a while examining the various Bandywits. It seemed to Harry that all of the Bandywits were rude and irritable, so he settled himself to finding one that was tolerable. He finally decided on one that was rather large compared to the others, maybe three and a half inches tall. He smiled at it as he held the cage up to his face.

"If it's me you wants, you'd better be quickly about letting me out of this cage!" it shouted at him. Harry nodded.

"I will, don't worry," he said. "Do you have a name?" The Bandywit nodded, its hands on its hips. 

"Me name be Shummy," it said proudly. Harry smiled, trying not to laugh.

"Right, then, Shummy," he said, "I'll take you."

Finally they all bought their Bandywits, which Ron thought were rather expensive, and left the shop. Hermione had chosen a shy little one named Clover, Ron's was rather fat and named Riggle, and Felicity's was quite talkative, and its name was Orion. They began to make their way, loaded down with bags and packages, toward Flourish and Blott's, when they heard a familiar and welcome voice from behind them.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione!" called Hagrid, rushing toward them. "How've yeh been?" They stopped and waited for him to catch up. Hagrid was at least a head above everyone else on Diagon Alley, as he was half giant, and his great face was covered with a thick and bushy black beard. 

"Hello, Hagrid!" said Harry, Hermione, and Ron in unison. They each hugged him warmly. Felicity stood rather in awe of his size. "Oh, Felicity, this is Hagrid, our good friend," said Harry. "Hagrid, this is Felicity, um," Harry turned to Felicity. "Sorry, I didn't catch your last name?"

"Felicity Dizzle," she said, holding a hand out to Hagrid. Hagrid shook her hand as gently as he knew how, nearly shaking her arm out of its socket. 

"Ah, yer the American student, aren't ya?" said Hagrid, his little eyes twinkling at her. "Professor Dumbledore's been talking 'bout a new exchange student. Yer the first one Hogwarts has had in a century!" Felicity smiled at this, feeling rather proud.

"Well, I'm very glad to be here!" she said. 

Harry held up his cage containing Shummy. "Hagrid, do you have any idea why Professor Dumbledore wants us to have these?" Hagrid scratched his head. 

"A Bandywit?" he said, stooping to peer into the little cage at Shummy, who was dozing quietly on the bottom of the cage. "I dunno, Harry. Dumbledore didn't say a word about it to me. Personally, I can' stand the little buggers, but I s'pose Dumbledore's got his reasons." 


	4. Trouble on the Hogwarts Express

Hagrid visited with them for a few minutes longer, then headed off to get some supplies for his Care of Magical Creatures class. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Felicity then went to Flourish and Blott's to get their school books. They purchased the usual books, such as _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6, _by Miranda Goshawk, and _Advanced Transfiguration, _by Emeric Switch. This year, however, a new class had been added to their busy schedules: Apparation and Disapparation, which was to be taught by Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts. Harry groaned at this news, as Filch was just as mean as, if not worse than, Professor Snape had ever been. Still, as Harry and Ron knew perhaps better than anyone, Filch was a master of Apparation, being able to transport himself magically from one end of the castle to the other in seconds, whenever his horrible cat, Mrs. Norris, informed him of students up to no good.

"I thought that no one could Apparate on Hogwarts grounds," said Ron curiously. Harry nodded, for he, too, had thought of that. Hermione, of course, had the answers.

"I've already asked the book keeper about it, and he said that he was informed by Professor Dumbledore that they've lifted the spell just for this course. For some reason, Dumbledore thinks it might become a necessary art," she explained. Harry and Ron exchanged dark glances. What was going on that made Dumbledore change the rules?

So, they added _The Art of Apparation, _by Regina Popup, to their heavy stack of books. Then came the time to part company. Ron and Harry said goodbye to Hermione and Felicity. Harry shook Felicity's hand warmly, letting his hand linger on hers for just a bit longer than usual.

"So, we'll see you at Platform 9 ¾, next week, then?" said Hermione. Ron and Harry nodded and said goodbye again, and watched as the two girls walked away, talking enthusiastically to each other. Harry turned to go find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but Ron just stood where he was, watching Hermione's back disappear in the distance. Harry clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Next week, Ron," he said with a grin. "Next week." Ron blinked and looked at Harry as if he didn't know what Harry was talking about. His face was blazing red, and he just nodded and shifted his packages in his arms.

So, they met up with Ron's family and traveled back to The Burrow by Floo Powder. Harry was a bit excited to be learning Apparation, finally, even if it was to be taught by Filch. He did not like traveling by Floo Powder much, as it made him dizzy and a bit queasy at times.

They passed their last week of holiday in playing Quidditch and wizard's chess, and sending their Bandywits on various little errands, such as sneaking cookies from the kitchen. Harry openly admitted to Ron that he rather fancied Felicity, but he couldn't get Ron to confess any feelings toward Hermione. Still, he noticed that every time her name was mentioned, Ron's ears went a bit pink. 

*~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~*

Next week came faster than they would have liked, and before they knew it, Harry and Ron were standing on Platform 9 ¾, their luggage in their hands. Fred and George had found their friend Lee Jordan, and were standing nearby, exchanging rude jokes with Lee. Ron's sister, Ginny, was talking to Colin Creevy, who had once plagued Harry by being his biggest fan at Hogwarts. 

The shining red steam engine stood ready, and loads of Hogwarts students were filing in, meeting their friends and choosing cabins in which to ride. Harry and Ron said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, then boarded the Hogwarts Express, hefting their large trunks into the train. They squeezed past other students in the narrow corridor, and finally found an empty compartment in which they could wait for Hermione and Felicity. Harry's Bandywit, Shummy, was shaking the bars of its little cage angrily, demanding to be let out, and Ron's, Riggle, was nibbling on a bit of treacle tart that Ron had given it.

"Feels good to be going back, doesn't it?" asked Harry, his heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. Before Ron could speak, a rather unwelcome voice answered from the doorway of the cabin.

"Yes, I suppose it _would _feel nice to go to school, after being _kicked out _of one's home, wouldn't it?" came the drawling, haughty voice of Draco Malfoy. Harry shot Malfoy a dangerous look, but didn't satisfy him with a reply. "Mind if I join you?" Malfoy asked, sitting down without waiting for an answer.

"Yes, Malfoy, we do mind," said Ron rather nastily. Draco just smiled at him lazily. 

"Your kindness astounds me, Weasley," said Malfoy, "but I was asking Potter."

Harry glared at him. "Well, then I say yes, we do mind," Harry shot at him. "We're saving these seats for someone else."

Draco's pale eyes sparkled. "Aww, Weasley, how sweet. You're no doubt saving a place for that Mudblood girlfriend of yours. That is touching. Pity, though. I don't think that bushy head of hair could fit in here comfortably, especially not with those teeth of hers in the way."

That had done it. Ron leapt to his feet, pulling his wand out of his pocket with lightning speed. "That's it, you foul-mouthed little git!" Ron shouted, aiming his wand at Malfoy's face. Harry grabbed Ron's wand before he could utter a spell, and yanked Ron back into his seat.

"Ron, ignore him. He's not worth getting yourself into trouble for," he said, giving Ron's wand back to him hesitantly. Draco was smirking.

"That's right, Weasley. Better listen to Potter, he's got a good head on his shoulders, though it is rather large." Malfoy studied Harry for a moment. "You would have made a great Slytherin," he said quietly. Harry just glared at him.

"What's going on in here?" said Hermione as she entered the cabin. She had heard them shouting from the corridor. Felicity came in behind her, and smiled at Harry. Malfoy stood up.

"Nothing, Granger, don't get your knickers in a twist," he said. He looked over Hermione's shoulder at Felicity, who smiled politely at him. "And you are?"

"Um, Felicity Dizzle," she introduced herself as Hermione sat down across from Harry and Ron. She held out her hand amiably, and Malfoy, rather than shaking it, took it in his hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. Harry could feel the blood rushing to his face in anger.

"Draco Malfoy, at your service," said Malfoy, in a tone of voice Harry had never heard before. Though it was still tinged with the coldness that Draco's voice always wore, it was softer than usual. Felicity let out a little nervous laugh.

"Nice to meet you," she said. Malfoy ran a hand through his white-blonde hair.

"Tell me, what brings you to this cabin?" he asked. "Here, why don't you join me- my cabin is just down the corridor. I believe you'll find much better company there than in here." He was blocking Felicity's path into the cabin. Harry had a strong urge to strangle Malfoy, but restrained himself.

"I, uh," stuttered Felicity, being much to sweet, thought Harry, to tell him no. 

"Thanks, but she'll be joining us, today," said Hermione, reaching around Draco to take hold of Felicity's arm and pull her past him. Malfoy spun around and shot Hermione an ice cold glare. Felicity, feeling very uncomfortable with the whole situation, sat down stiffly next to Hermione. 

"Maybe some other time?" she said politely to Malfoy. He gave her a small bow and an actual smile, then swept out of the cabin.


	5. 

"Urrrgh, that stupid idiot Malfoy never fails to chap my bum," grumbled Ron after Malfoy had left the cabin. Hermione and Harry both wore faces of disgust as well. Felicity looked from one to another, feeling rather that the incident had been her fault somehow.

"Um, may I ask what's wrong?" she said timidly, not wanting to anger any of her new friends further. Harry gave her a weak smile.

"Nothing, Felicity," he said. "That was Draco Malfoy, the biggest jerk in all of Hogwarts."

"We hate him with a passion," explained Ron, "and he hates us just as much."

"I think he's rather jealous, actually," chimed Hermione, her chin raised indignantly. "He wishes he actually had real friends, instead of just the brainless duo, Crabbe and Goyle."

"Oh," was all Felicity could say. She didn't like to judge people before she really knew them, and even though her friends seemed genuinely disgusted with the tall, blonde boy, she had to admit that he'd done nothing wrong to her. "How long should it take to get to Hogwarts?" she asked cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.

"I suppose we have about an hour left," said Harry, looking at his new watch. The hand was pointing toward 'Halfway there.' "Oh, Hermione," he said, feeling a bit guilty, "I forgot to thank you for the watch! It's quite nice."

"Oh, you're welcome, Harry. It's bewitched with a really clever spell so that it changes to fit whatever you're doing at the moment." She smiled at Harry. They continued to make small talk, about the upcoming classes and about Quidditch tryouts, which would be held during the second week of school.

"Harry's Seeker for Gryffindor," explained Ron to Felicity. "I'm going to try out for the team - Harry's helped me practice."

"You'll be sure to make the team, Ron," said Hermione, giving him a kind and encouraging smile that made his ears turn a particularly bright shade of red. Soon it came time to put on their black school robes, and to gather their things. 

The train rolled to a stop in front of the lake, and Hagrid was waiting as usual to take the first years on the exciting trip across the water. Everyone else stayed on board as the first years got off, and then the train continued around the castle, where it dropped them off at the front.

Harry, Hermione, Felicity, and Ron filed out into the corridor with the rest of the students, leaving their trunks in the cabin, where they would be collected and sent up to the dormitories. The Hogwarts castle rose high over their heads as they stepped out into the dazzling sunlight. Harry caught sight of Malfoy, sandwiched between the enormous forms of Crabbe and Goyle. He instinctively moved between Felicity and Malfoy's line of vision.

Professor McGonagall met the throng of students in the front hall as usual. She looked old all the sudden, thought Harry. Her hair, twisted up in a tight bun, was more white now than anything else, and she squinted at them even through her spectacles.

"Welcome students," she said, "you may enter the Great Hall and take your seats. I'll bring in the first years shortly." With that, there came a loud rush of voices, as everyone pushed through the large, heavy doors of the Great Hall. As usual, the tables were adorned with golden plates and goblets, and thousands of candles hung in the air, shedding a warm glow on the room below. 

The bewitched ceiling was covered in vast, rolling white clouds, and the sun could be seen shining brilliantly. The teachers were already assembled at the head table, with the exception of Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore sat regally in the middle. Harry and company took their seats at the Gryffindor table (Felicity was automatically to be in Gryffindor house, as she was Hermione's guest).

The Sorting Ceremony went as it always did - nervous first years fidgeting in front of the rest of the school while waiting their turn to wear the hat. There was the usual spattering of applause from the various tables as the first years were sent to join either Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw. 

When finally the ceremony had finished, Professor Dumbledore rose to address the school. A hush fell over the room. "My dear students," he said, his voice magically magnified so as to fill the Hall, "welcome to another year at Hogwarts." Cheers erupted from several areas of the room.

"I'd like to remind you that all students are forbidden to venture into the Dark Forest, and that anyone caught will be dealt with severely. Madame Hooch would also like me to remind you that Quidditch tryouts are to be held next Thursday, and all those wishing to try out must add their names to the list on the wall outside the library." He paused for a moment and surveyed the room with his kind, twinkling eyes. He caught sight of Harry, and gave a small, barely noticeable wink.

"And now, the anthem!" As he had done every year before, Professor Dumbledore raised his wand and illustrated the words, while the students sang in whatever tune they wished. "That being done - and quite beautifully, I might add - let the feast begin!"

The miraculous feast materialized on the plates, and the Great Hall became filled with hundreds of excited voices. Up at the head table, Hagrid made his way to Dumbledore's side. "Sir, if I might have a word?" he said quietly. Dumbledore nodded, chewing on a rather tough piece of meat. "Well, sir, I was jus' wonderin' why you required the sixth years to have Bandywits this year. I thought it a bit odd, but-"

"Bandywits?" asked Dumbledore, finally swallowing the meat. He peered up at Hagrid from under his bushy white eyebrows. "I said nothing about Bandywits." Hagrid's small eyes widened. 

"Well, then, sir," he said, his gruff voice barely above a whisper, "we've got a bit of a problem."


	6. The Conference

Unaware of the new-found problem erupting at the head table, the students of Hogwarts ate their feast with hearty merriment. The food was exceptionally delicious. The golden goblets filled and refilled themselves with wonderful pumpkin juice as everyone ate the hams, turkeys, roast chickens, salads, soups, and every other type of food that cluttered the tables.

When finally the feast was cleared away, and all the students were full and getting sleepy, Professor Dumbledore stood again and cleared his throat. Everyone hushed. Harry sat at intense attention, concerned about the stern, worried look on Dumbledore's face. He hoped he would say something about the Bandywits.

However, Dumbledore did not mention them at all. Instead he said, with rather strained cheerfulness, "I hope you have all enjoyed another wonderful Commencement Feast," he said. "And now, time for you all to retire to your houses. Prefects, please lead the way, and remember to tell those members of your houses the new passwords. Good night, all!"

With that, there was a tremendous scraping of chairs and benches as all of the students made their way out of the hall. The teachers began to get up, but Dumbledore held out a hand to stop them. "I need to speak to you all in my office a little later," he said. The teachers nodded. Professor Snape watched Dumbledore with concern. His dark brow was furrowed, wondering what the old wizard could be so worried about. He brushed a strand of his long, black hair out of his face, and went with the other teachers out into the front hall to guide the students.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione enthusiastically pointed out the various oddities of Hogwarts castle to Felicity as they climbed the many staircases up to Gryffindor Tower. "I love the castle!" said Felicity, grinning as they watched a nearby staircase move. "It is so much older and more mysterious than Liberty School. After all, The Statue is relatively new compared to this."

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, the new Gryffindor prefect, who had taken Percy's place, raised herself onto her toes to get everyone's attention. "The new password is 'Boggle-nut'," she said, and at this the Fat Lady bowed her head and swung forward on her hinges.

Upon entering the warm common room, decorated in reds and gold as always, the prefect, whose name was Miranda, turned around. She was rather short, so she pulled up one of the fluffy armchairs and stood on it. She waited until the crowded room became quiet. "Professor McGonagall asked all of us prefects to please remind you of the rules: Boys and girls are to stay in their own dormitories - if any boys are found in the girls' rooms, or vice versa, they must answer to Professor McGonagall herself. Second, no one is aloud to leave Gryffindor Tower after nine o'clock. First years, you'll find your luggage already in your rooms. Well, that's it, then. Have a pleasant evening!" She dismounted her chair and left the common room.

"She's Percy in a girl's body!" said Ron. Harry and Hermione chuckled at this. 

"Come, Felicity," said Hermione, "I'll show you our room. We'll see you two in the morning," she said to Ron and Harry, then headed toward the staircase to the right, which lead to the girls' dormitory. Felicity smiled at them and said good night, then hurried to follow Hermione.

"I'm exhausted," said Ron, stifling a yawn. He took a few steps toward the stairs to the left. "Coming to bed, Harry?"

"No, not just yet," Harry said. Ron shrugged and went up to their room. Harry settled himself in a chair by a window, and looked out at the nighttime sky. The stars were twinkling happily, sending tiny sparkles afloat on the lake below. Harry wished Sirius were here. He hadn't heard from him since the year before, and as far as he knew, his godfather was still in hiding, wanted for murder. It made Harry angry to think that Sirius's whole life was ruined, all for something he didn't even do. The common room was clearing as people went up to bed. Soon, Harry sat alone, watching the night. 

*~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ *

At around nine-thirty, the teachers began to arrive at Professor Dumbledore's office. The round room was brightly lit with candles and a warm, comfortable fire was ablaze in the fireplace. Dumbledore sat behind his large oak desk, absently stroking his long, silvery beard. 

When all of the teachers had arrived, including Filch, Dumbledore straightened up in his chair. "As some of you may have heard," he said solemnly, "there has been a mistake in our school supply list for sixth years."

All of the teachers muttered to each other at this. Snape stood in the corner, arms folded across his chest, brow furrowed. 

"Someone indicated in the letter that I, Albus Dumbledore, required all sixth years to own their own Bandywits. Now, Minerva, you are in charge of the letters. Do you have any idea as to how this mistake came about?" 

Professor McGonagall stepped forward. "No, sir," she said, "when I sent out the letters, they were just as they should have been - with no mention of Bandywits whatsoever." More nervous chatter from the teachers.

"Then, it seems that something is greatly amiss." Dumbledore stood up and went to the window. He looked out at the sky, thinking. "We all, I am quite sure, remember what role the Bandywits played during the reign of Lord Voldemort," he said, not looking at the teachers. Everyone nodded, becoming tense.

"We'll have the Bandywits sent away, Professor, it's as simple as that," said Snape. Dumbledore turned to him and smiled.

"I thought the same thing, at first, my dear Professor Snape," he said, a twinkle in his brilliant eyes. "However, upon further consideration, I have come up with what I presume to be a much better idea. We'll let the students keep their Bandywits." A general uproar arose throughout the office, as the teachers protested the decision.

"Silence, please, silence," said Dumbledore calmly. "Hear what I have to say." All mouths closed at once. Dumbledore took his seat again and leaned his elbows on the desk. He looked very old and tired. "If indeed the letters were tainted by Lord Voldemort or any of his followers - which we are not certain is the case - then we may be sure that there shall be betrayals made by the Bandywits. I have a very strong feeling that this has to do with Voldemort's undying determination to get his hands on Harry Potter. As we all know, Mr. Potter is himself a sixth year, and so he has most surely purchased a Bandywit of his own. We must watch every move his Bandywit makes, along with those belonging to Mr. Potter's friends and enemies. If they are indeed in cooperation with the Dark Lord, then we may be able to follow their tracks, and find him at last."

"But, Professor Dumbledore, should we really endanger the students when we are not even certain that this has anything to do with You-Know-Who?" asked Professor Flitwick. 

"If you are not certain it has to do with Voldemort," said Dumbledore slowly, "they why should you think that the Bandywits would 'endanger the students'?" No one spoke. Dumbledore was right. He nodded at the silence and sat back down in his chair. "Then the decision is made. They'll keep their Bandywits, and we'll keep a very sharp eye on all of them."


	7. Feelings Blossom

Harry was vaguely aware of a tugging at his sleeve. He flicked his arm, not opening his eyes. The tugging continued. "What do you want, Dudley? Leave me alone!" he muttered, flicking his arm again. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his finger, and Harry's eyes opened with a snap.

He was briefly disoriented, before he realized he was still sitting in the armchair in the Gryffindor common room. Shummy, his Bandywit, stood on the arm of the chair, hands on hips. Harry examined the tiny bite marks on his forefinger.

"What did you want to go and bite me for?" he asked, glaring at Shummy.

"Well, if you'd feed me every once in a bit, I'd not have to bite ye, now would I?" retorted the tiny creature. It glared back. Harry rolled his green eyes. He sat up and yawned, looking at his watch. The hand rested on 'You've still got a while to sleep.' It was right - only a tiny bit of gray light filtered through the window.

"How did you get out of your cage, anyway?" Harry asked, rummaging in his pockets for the bit of treacle tart he'd shoved in them after the banquet. He handed Shummy a few crumbs.

"That freckled friend of yours let Riggle out, so Riggle let me out," Shummy explained between mouthfuls of tart. Harry nodded and laid his head back against the chair. He smiled to himself as bits and pieces of his dreams from the night before came back to him.

He'd dreamed that he was in a great field of sunflowers, riding on his broomstick. Felicity sat on the broom behind him, her arms tight around his waist. She laughed with delight as he took her higher and higher above the flowers. 

"Harry?" A voice shattered him from his dream. He bolted upright, to find Hermione coming toward him. She was still in her pajamas, her robe pulled tightly around her. She pulled another chair close to his.

"Did you sleep here all night?" she asked. Harry nodded. There was no sign of Shummy. He must have scurried back up to the dormitory with his breakfast. 

"What are you doing up so early?" Harry asked her. 

"My stupid Bandywit woke me up demanding food," she said in an exasperated tone. Harry chuckled. "What do you think of Felicity?" Hermione asked him. He struggled to keep his cheeks from turning red.

"She's nice," he said, not meeting Hermione's eyes. She grinned at him.

"She definitely had nice things to say about you," she said teasingly. Harry tried not to seem too interested.

"Really?" he said as casually as he could. Inside he was shouting with joy.

"Really. She commented on your good character." Hermione watched as Harry's face dimmed a bit. She waited a moment, for effect, before she added, "And she said you're not bad looking, either."

Harry forgot his determination to be aloof. "She did? What else did she say?" Hermione laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Well, now, that's not really for me to say. After all, what kind of friend would I be to her if I told you everything?" she said. Harry shrugged his shoulders and relaxed again into his chair, a small, shy smile on his face. 

"Does she like it here?" Harry asked, wanting to know more about Felicity. 

"Yes, she does," Hermione said. "She is beginning to be a bit homesick, though. She and her family are quite close. And quite wealthy if I understand correctly. Her father is a member of the United States Wizards' Senate."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Quite impressive, he had to admit. He'd never been to the United States, but would like to visit one day. Maybe he'd go with Felicity, and meet her family. Hermione grinned at him as if she could read his thoughts.

"We've got Potions first thing today," she said, dragging Harry back to the real world. "Better go get some more sleep while we can. We'll need it to prepare for Snape. I'll just bet he's a peach in the morning!" Harry laughed at her sarcasm, and they both got up and headed off to bed.

Harry felt as though his head had just hit the pillow when Ron woke him up two hours later. He slowly got up and dressed, taking extra time to smooth his hair, and he and Ron made their way downstairs, along with Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan. They met Hermione and Felicity in the common room.

Harry greeted Felicity warmly, his eyes roaming over her outfit. Underneath her baggy black robes, she wore a skirt and a rather nicely-fitting sweater, Harry noticed. The four of them headed cheerfully down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Halfway through the meal, the usual stream of owls came fluttering in through the windows, bearing the day's mail. Hedwig swooped low over the Gryffindor table and dropped a letter on Harry's plate. He treated Hedwig to a bit of bacon before picking up the envelope.

It was from Sirius. He tore open the envelope and read the letter.

_Dear Harry, Sorry I haven't corresponded in such a very long time. I've been in France, helping one of my Auror friends to find a notorious French Death Eater. This friend of mine, Jack Bellemont, is one of the few who knows I'm innocent. I can't send you a birthday gift this year, as I have no money, and have had very little time to make you anything. But don't worry, I'll be coming to visit you soon. Just keep your eyes peeled for a big black dog. Ha, ha. Well, I just wanted to wish you luck with your school year, and to tell you that all is well._

Love, Sirius

"Who is that from?" asked Ron, peering at Harry's letter.

"Sirius. He says everything is okay- he's been in France, helping an Auror find a Death Eater," Harry explained. 

"Well, if he's in the business of helping Aurors, then he's well on his way to having his name cleared, don't you think?" asked Hermione, who had been listening. Harry nodded. He hadn't thought of that, but it was a good sign that things might begin to get better for Sirius. He certainly hoped so.

Breakfast went all too fast for Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors. Before they knew it, they were trudging down the narrow stairs into the dungeons, to take their Potions lesson with Snape and the Slytherins. Felicity could feel the dislike for both Professor Snape and for the Slytherins emanating from her friends. She had already heard that more dark wizards and witches had come from Slytherin house than from any other.

They made their way into the dark classroom, and sat next to each other at one of the long work tables. Draco Malfoy sat a few rows behind them. He watched as Felicity sat down in between Hermione and Harry. He watched as she flipped her long, silky hair over her shoulder. He hated Harry even more for already being friends with the new girl. 

_Just because he's the famous Harry Potter, _he thought bitterly. Professor Snape swept into the classroom and went to the head of the class. He glared around at all of them, dark circles under his dark eyes. He looked as though he hadn't gotten much sleep at all.

"This is your sixth year of Potions," he murmured, looking around the class. "I expect you all to be strong in your methods, having gotten five years of practice under your belts. For those of you who don't yet know me," he glanced at Felicity, "I am Professor Snape, and I do not tolerate anything less than your best." 

Harry stole a glance at Felicity, eager to see her reaction to Snape. "Potter!" Snape spat at him. Harry looked up, startled. "Save your flirtations for after class - while you're in here, I demand your full attention. I'm sure Miss Dizzle will understand." 

Harry and Felicity both turned bright red. Malfoy didn't know whether to laugh with the rest of the Slytherins or not. After all, he'd love to laugh at Potter, but at the same time, he did not want to embarrass Felicity. He rather astonished himself by this act of kindness. He'd never really had feelings for anyone before.

Snape began his droning on and on, and soon it was time to try a new potion. He announced that they'd be working in pairs, and began to call off names. To Draco's great delight, Snape called out, "Malfoy and Dizzle!" in his pairing up of the students.

Harry shot a deadly glare at Malfoy, who simply shrugged his shoulders and smirked at Harry with a defiant, and triumphant face.


	8. Potions in Pairs

Felicity made her way over to where Draco Malfoy sat, smiling kindly at him. "Looks like we're partners," she said in a friendly voice, taking her seat next to him. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm Felicity." 

Malfoy smiled at her in the most friendly way he could, which was really little better than a haughty smirk. "Of course I remember," he said, his usual drawl softening a bit. Harry, who had been paired with Neville Longbottom, took his seat across the room and kept a sideways watch of Malfoy and Felicity. Snape called the class to attention, then proceeded to explain the potion they would be making.

"Today we'll start with something simple," he said in his soft, oily voice. "An invisibility potion." A general murmur of excitement arose around the room. This was much more interesting than anything they had ever done in Potions before. The highlight of last year had been to develop a cleaning potion that could get grease stains of out pink satin. 

"Silence!" Snape growled. The murmurs quailed under his icy glare. He picked up a small vial of red liquid and held it up. "Dragon's blood, the first ingredient. You'll want just a few drops- too much and you might be invisible permanently." He waited as all the pairs of students carefully measured a few drops of dragon's blood into their cauldrons. 

And so class continued, Snape telling them step by step the ingredients that were to be added. Felicity picked up the bottle of fairy tears and began to pour it into a measuring vial. A few drops slid down the bottle and onto her hand. Malfoy took her gently by the wrist. He used his sleeve to wipe the tears from her skin.

"If you don't wipe it off right away, it will burn you," he said softly, gazing into her blue eyes. Felicity flushed a little and slowly pulled her hand away. 

"Thank you," she said shyly. "I didn't know that." Draco smiled at her and turned his eyes back to Professor Snape, who was roaming around the classroom, making sure everyone was doing things correctly. Harry was helping Neville clean up the wolfs bane he had spilled all over the table. "Sorry about that, Harry," Neville said, just before he turned and knocked his book to the floor.

"Poor Neville," said Hermione with a smile as she and Ron watched their potion boil. "He's always so clumsy. Do you think it's ready?" Ron looked at her in surprise.

"You're asking me? This is something new!" he teased. Hermione punched his arm playfully. Snape took his place once again at the head of the classroom.

"If you are all finished, it is time to test your potion. I want each of you to taste one spoonful - that will be enough to send you invisible for no more than a few minutes. When you have tasted it, and if it works and you do indeed disappear, I'll trust you to STAY IN YOUR SEATS!" Everyone was quite excited to try their potions.

Felicity and Malfoy leaned over their cauldron, looking at the swirling yellow-gold liquid. "Ladies first," said Draco, and handed Felicity a spoon. She took a breath and slowly tasted some of the potion. It wasn't half bad. She thought it tasted sort of like a mixture of butterbeer and coconut.

"Well?" she asked, as she started to fade from Malfoy's sight. His eyes widened.

"We did it! I can't see you at all!" he said. The rest of the class was bustling with similar excitement as one by one the students disappeared, with the exception of Harry and Neville. Harry sat with his chin in his hand, while Neville sputtered about how sorry he was for spilling all of the wolfs bane. Without that, their potion was useless.

"It's okay, Neville," Harry said absently, concentrating on keeping an eye on Malfoy. He watched as Malfoy talked to the air where Felicity must have been, and then took his own taste of their potion.

Malfoy looked down at his hands, but they weren't there. "Amazing!" he said. "What a useful potion to know…"

"Draco, Professor Snape said specifically that this is not to be used under any circumstances outside of this classroom - by penalty of suspension," warned Felicity, looking at where she assumed Malfoy was sitting. She, too, looked amazedly at her hands, not being able to see them.

She could feel Draco move closer to her. "You're starting to sound like Granger," he said in what Felicity mistook for feigned disgust. "Just think how much fun it would be to mix up a bit of this and go for a midnight stroll on the lawns," he said. His face was very close to hers, for though she could not see him, she could feel his breath as he spoke.

Snape rapped loudly on his desk to get the attention of the his invisible class. "You should be coming into sight again soon," he said. Even as he spoke, Harry could begin to see vague forms sitting around him and Neville. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what Malfoy was up to. He fully expected to find Felicity struggling to get out of Malfoy's grasp, but was relieved to see them appear, sitting where they had been, casually talking and watching their hands come back. 

When Potions was finally over, Harry made his way over to the table where Felicity and Malfoy were gathering their things. "Well, good luck to you, Draco, but count me out!" he heard Felicity say with a laugh. To Harry's great surprise, Malfoy was laughing, too, and actually looked like he was enjoying himself. This Felicity Dizzle really must be something, he thought, to make Draco Malfoy smile.

Malfoy's laughter stopped abruptly when Harry reached their table, Ron and Hermione not far behind. He shot Harry an irritated look, then turned back to Felicity. "I'll see you later, then?" he said. Felicity nodded and waved goodbye as Malfoy turned and left to catch up with the rest of the Slytherins.

"I've never seen Malfoy actually smile at anyone!" Hermione said as the four of them left the dungeons. Harry just walked behind, feeling angry. Snape had paired them on purpose, he thought bitterly. Ron took up stride beside him, Felicity and Hermione a few steps ahead.

"Easy, tiger," Ron said quietly. "If you behave too jealously, you'll scare her off." Harry rolled his eyes. Who was Ron to be giving advice about girls, anyway? He suddenly felt guilty for thinking that. 

"I suppose you're right, Ron," he said, setting his jaw. "If it's competition Malfoy wants, that's what he'll get." He watched Felicity as she laughed merrily with Hermione. His heart gave a leap, and he smiled to himself, feeling all fluttered in a way he never had before. 


	9. Sprites and Kites

That day, at lunch, Harry sat next to Felicity. The more they talked, the more Harry's stomach fluttered. She was so intelligent, so witty, so kind - not to mention the most beautiful girl Harry had ever laid eyes on. She drove all thoughts he might have had about Cho Chang right out of his head.

"So, what's next on our agenda?" she asked, then took a sip of tea. Harry took a small piece of paper out of his pants pocket. Unfolding it, he surveyed the copy of their schedule he'd written down.

"Um… Care of Magical Creatures, with Hagrid," he said brightly. He was glad to be going to see Hagrid. This year they had his class with the Hufflepuffs, instead of with the Slytherins. Another bonus. "Bit of a warning, though," he said, turning in his seat to look at her, "Hagrid has a way of choosing… dangerous animals to work with."

Felicity laughed. "They can't be any worse than my little brother, Max," she said. Harry laughed along with her. 

"Hey, Harry," said Ron, from across the table, "did you see your Bandywit this morning? I couldn't find mine." Harry shook his head.

"Nope, Shummy was nowhere in sight," he said.

"Mine was gone, too," said Felicity, and Hermione just nodded, her mouth being too full to say that her Bandywit was missing, as well.

"Hmm, strange," Ron said. "What do you suppose they're up to?" Everyone just shook their heads. Harry thought for a while. He wondered why Dumbledore never said anything about the Bandywits, and why he'd required them to bring them.

"They seem to like food an awful lot," Ron suggested, "so maybe they went to the kitchens to raid the house-elves." Everyone chuckled at this, and finished their lunch without much more thought on the Bandywits.

They went down the sloping green lawn to Hagrid's hut a bit early, so they could visit him before class began. They found him outside, bending over three large wooden crates. Harry looked suspiciously at the crates, which were eerily still.

"What've you got, there, Hagrid?" he asked. Hagrid whipped around, startled.

"Geez, Harry, don' sneak up on me like that," he said, his great hand on his chest. "This is our lesson for today." He patted one of the crates lovingly. Hermione looked at him dubiously.

"But, what do you have inside the crates, Hagrid?" she asked. He grinned under his beard.

"Now, if I told yeh that, I'd ruin yer surprise!" he said good naturedly, then headed for the door to his hut. "Come on in, all of yeh, and have summat to drink."

The four of them followed him into the hut. Harry, Ron, and Hermione went straight to the large table and sat down, but Felicity hesitated. She had never been to Hagrid's home before, and thought it might be rude if she just barged in. He turned to her and smiled.

"Ain't yeh gonna take yer seat?" he asked. She nodded and sat down next to Harry. Hagrid was stirring something extremely smelly over the fire, and it stifled his guests. He turned to them and gestured toward the large pot in which he was stirring. "Fang's favorite meal," he explained, "toad livers 'n' whiskey, with just a bit o' plum sauce." Ron wrinkled his nose.

"Who is Fang?" Felicity asked. Even as she spoke, Hagrid's enormous pet boarhound sidled up next to her and laid its huge head in her lap. She smiled and scratched him behind the ear.

"Ain't he cute?" Hagrid asked her, beaming at the dog. Fang drooled all over her skirt, but she didn't mind. Felicity loved animals. Hagrid poured them each a mug of homemade butterbeer, and they sipped it while they chatted with their half-giant friend.

Soon it was time for class to begin. They all went outside, where they found the rest of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff waiting. All of the students were casting sideways glances at the crates, as they were certain it was another of Hagrid's strange and creepy creatures. 

"Welcome," Hagrid said, as Harry and company took their place among the rest of the class, "to another year of Care of Magical Creatures!" There was a spattering of applause from the class. "I figured we'd start the year off with something fun." As he spoke, Hagrid went to the crates and pried their lids off.

The class let out a general murmur of "Oooooh!" as twelve large bubbles floated silently up out of the crates. They were of a pale bluish color, and they hovered near Hagrid, as if afraid to venture further.

"These are water sprites," Hagrid explained. "They stay in bubble form until yeh put them into water, and then they take on their natural form. They are very beautiful, and very shy. Today we'll go over the simple process of feeding them." He led the class around to the back of the hut, the bubbles following him closely, to where he had set up six water tables. 

After instructing the class to organize themselves into groups of seven, each group being assigned to a water table, Hagrid went around, handing out two bubbles per group. He told the students to slowly and gently lower their sprites into the water, and stand back and watch.

As all the students struggled to be able to see, the bubbles slowly melted away to reveal beautiful little creatures, with shimmery silver skin and hair, and tiny, sparkling scales on their arms and legs. The sprites seemed much happier and livelier once in the water, and they began to swim and splash around merrily.

"Now," said Hagrid, pleased with the way things were going, "I'll pass around a bag of water lily petals, and yeh'll need to sprinkle just a few petals into each water table." He started the bag with Harry's group, and they passed it down the row. They watched with delight as the tiny creatures took the silky white petals in their little hands and ate them hungrily. The water all around the sprites rippled and swirled as they ate and swam, seeming not to care at all that they were surrounded by goggling eyes.

"These are much, much better than the Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hermione said, watching the sprites with a smile on her face. Everyone else agreed. The rest of class was spent playing with the sprites, whom the students found out were quite fond of being tickled.

When at last class was over, Hagrid picked the water sprites gently out of the tables, and they faded once more into bubbles. The students all thanked him for a wonderful lesson, and headed back up the lawn toward the castle. Classes being finished for the day, Harry, Felicity, Hermione, and Ron went up to Gryffindor tower to relax in the common room. 

Hermione insisted on doing her Potions homework right away, and the others sat and played wizard's chess, not feeling up to homework just yet. Felicity, Ron soon found out, was quite good at wizard's chess, and after she beat him a third time, he gave up.

"I suppose I've put it off long enough," he said, taking a seat at a table with Hermione. He began his Potions homework by badgering her to share her answers.

"No, Ron," she protested as always. "How are you to learn if you don't do it yourself?" 

Harry looked up at the window. The late afternoon sun was shining beautifully on the lake. He seized the opportunity. "Want to go for a walk?" he asked Felicity, rather shyly. She smiled and said she would love to. They told Ron and Hermione they'd see them at supper, and left Gryffindor Tower.

As they stepped out onto the front lawn of the castle, a small something rushed past their feet. "Was that a Bandywit?" Harry asked. 

"I think so," answered Felicity. "Strange little things, aren't they?" They walked down toward the lake, and sat in the long shadow of a willow tree. (Not the Whomping Willow, mind you.) 

"So, how did you like your first day at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, watching the sun sparkle on the water. Felicity smiled.

"I had a lot of fun," she said truthfully. "Everyone here is very nice." Harry nodded, then rolled his eyes.

"Even Malfoy?" he said, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. She chuckled and shook her pretty head.

"You two really don't get along, do you?" she asked, looking Harry in the eyes. He shook his head and made a disgusted face.

"I dunno," he said, not wanting her to think him mean spirited, "Malfoy's just so rude to everyone, especially to Ron and Hermione, and that really makes me angry. He'll be a Death Eater one day for sure."

Felicity raised her eyebrows. "You can't really mean that," she said. Harry looked at her incredulously.

"As if I don't," he said. "I'm not kidding, Felicity, Malfoy's trouble." He watched as a light breeze blew a strand of her silky dark hair across her face. He reached out and pulled it out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. An awkward silence fell, and he yanked his eyes away from her, reverting them back to the water. He could feel his face turning red.

"Here," he said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. He held his breath, hoping he would get this right, and flicked it in the air. A long ribbon shot out of the end, with a kite attached. The kite, which was gold with the name "Felicity" emblazoned across it in red, caught the breeze and rose high into the air, over the lake. Harry handed her the string.

"Thanks," she said, gazing at him for a moment before turning her eyes to the kite. "I love kites." 


	10. Bad Tidings

Draco Malfoy sat in the windowsill, looking out over the lawn, toward the lake. He watched as Harry sat with Felicity. He sneered when he saw the kite rise into the air. "That Potter thinks he can have whatever he wants," he said to himself. His Bandywit stood next to him, its face pressed against the cold glass of the window.

"Who is Potter?" asked the Bandywit, whose name Malfoy hadn't bothered to ask. Draco looked at the little creature lazily.

"Potter is that pratt down there sitting with Felicity. Kite indeed- how sappy and unoriginal." His pale eyes lit with jealousy and malice. "Well, then," he said, raising an eyebrow, "I'll just have to show the Great Harry Potter how it's done."

*~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~*

"Did you kiss her?" asked Ron as he and Harry made their way to the west wing, where they were scheduled to take Filch's Apparation class. Harry shot Ron a withering look.

"No, Ron, I didn't kiss her," he said, shaking his head. "I'm waiting for just the right moment." Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, whenever the snogging begins, I'd better be the first to know," he said. Harry just smiled. They met up with Felicity and Hermione once they reached the west wing of the castle, and the four of them headed for the classroom.

"We're taking this class with Slytherins," Hermione said darkly. They all groaned, with the exception of Felicity.

"Why do they insist on putting Gryffindors and Slytherins together so much? Everyone knows we don't get along," Ron said. Felicity shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe that's why they do put you together," she said, "to try to get you all to be civil at least." Ron and Harry looked at each other incredulously.

"Sorry, Felicity," said Ron, "but I doubt we'll ever be friends with the Slytherins." They reached the classroom to find nearly everyone else already seated. They took seats near the front of the class- everyone else had chosen to be as far away from Filch as possible.

The time for class to begin had come and gone, and there was still no sign of Filch. Mrs. Norris, his horrible cat, was sitting on the front desk, staring at all of them with her lamp-like eyes. Suddenly, with a small _pop!_ Argus Filch appeared before them. He had a proud look on his weathered face.

"Welcome to _my_ class," he said, putting great emphasis on the 'my.' He glared around at the class with a look of utmost dislike. This is going to be worse than Snape, thought Harry.

"I know you all hate me," said Filch quietly, "but that don't matter, 'cause I really don't like you very much, either. However, Professor Dumbledore asked me to teach you all the fine art of Apparation and Disapparation, and I intend to carry out his wishes."

At least he was honest. Harry and Ron exchanged disgusted glances. Malfoy and his crew were at their utmost attention, wanting to get started in learning this terrific art. Filch was fumbling with some papers on his desk, grumbling to himself as he did so. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

"This is your first homework assignment," he said gruffly, handing out the papers. Harry read it, frowning. It was nothing but copying chapters from the book. Hermione leaned close to Harry.

"He's giving us busy-work just because he doesn't really know how to teach," she said. Harry nodded his agreement. Mrs. Norris focused her nosey eyes on them.

"Now, first off, I want to say that Apparation is no small matter," Filch said, his arms folded across his chest. "It can be quite helpful, but also quite dangerous. There are many young wizards who were too eager to use this new power, and, not being ready, Disapparated themselves into nonexistence." Several people gasped. "The first step to learning to Apparate and Disapparate is to learn to focus all of your energy into one stream of thought. I want you all to think of something. Think hard." Filch paused as all of the faces around him became contorted with concentration. "Now," he said, "stand up."

There was a loud scraping of chairs as everyone rose to their feet. Filch shook his head. "No, no, no! Sit down, all of you." More scraping of chairs. "That was your first test - which you all failed miserably." Hermione let out a small whimper at this. "If you had all been concentrating as hard as I told you to, you would not have heard me say 'stand up.'"

Hermione was about to protest, when a whirl of gold and blue shot out of Harry's knapsack and rolled about on the floor. 

"Shummy!" shouted Harry.

"Orion!" gasped Felicity. The two Bandywits were engaged in a vicious fight. Shummy's little hands were wrapped around Orion's neck.

"I'll kill ye!" Shummy was screaming as Orion struggled to break loose. Harry sprang out of his chair and grabbed the scrapping creatures. Felicity was at his side, her hands on her face in horror. The class watched as Harry pried Shummy's surprisingly tight grip off of Orion.

"What is this about, Potter?" Filch growled as Harry handed Orion over to Felicity. Harry shrugged, Shummy still in his fist.  
"I don't know, sir," he said honestly. "I didn't know they were in there." Malfoy was snickering behind his hand.

"Well, I won't have those nasty little things interrupting _my _class," said Filch. "You and Miss Dizzle go and put them in your rooms, then come straight back to class! I'll have Mrs. Norris accompany you."

Harry scowled at the mangy cat as they made their way out of the classroom. Felicity was stroking Orion's blue hair, trying to calm it. "What's got into them?" she said.

"I dunno," Harry answered. "I wonder when they got into my pack. They must've crept in this morning while I was getting ready." They made their way up the various stairways and passages. Mrs. Norris led the way, turning every now and then to make sure they were following.

"Professor Filch seems to be a little awkward at teaching," Felicity said. 

"That's because he's not a professor. He's just the caretaker in the castle, and Dumbledore must've given him this job out of pity," said Harry. "Although, I must say, he is good at Apparating just when you think you're getting away with something."

Felicity shot him a suspicious glance. "And what, Harry Potter, might you have been trying to get away with?" Harry just raised his eyebrows and smiled smugly at her.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Buster-wings," Harry muttered, and she swung forward. Mrs. Norris waited in the corridor- she wasn't allowed in any of the dormitories. 

"Well," Harry said to Shummy, "time for you to go back to your cage. I don't need any help getting in trouble from you." They each took their Bandywits up to their rooms, then met back in the common room.

Just then there was a scratching at the window. Harry opened it, and a gray owl flew in, dropping a letter at his feet. It flew out again before he could move. Stooping, Harry picked up the envelope, which was addressed to him.

"That's strange," said Felicity, "I thought mail only came during breakfast."

"That's the only time it's supposed to," said Harry, opening the envelope. The letter read:

_Dear Harry,_

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I have something important to tell you. Lord Voldemort has nearly gotten his full power back. He is no longer weak, and he no longer has to stay in hiding. I hate to say this, but I fully expect him to come after you first. You defeated him, Harry, and he'll want his revenge. I'll be coming on Halloween. I know that is a long time to wait, but it is the earliest I can possibly make it. I'll be disguised as the black dog, of course, and I'll wait for you near the forest, out of sight of the castle. I don't want you to tell anyone about this, because I fear it would endanger us both. Please burn this letter as soon as you read it. Don't worry - I'll see to it that you're alright. Until then,

_Sirius_

Harry read it several times before tossing it into the fireplace. Felicity was watching him, concerned. She didn't ask what the letter was about or who it was from. She knew that he would tell her if he wanted to. Besides, the look on Harry's face told her she'd be better off not knowing.


	11. The New Gryffindor Quidditch Captain

Harry was true to Sirius' letter, not mentioning it to anyone, though it weighed heavily on his heart. He found himself having the old nightmares again, and waking in the night in a cold sweat, his scar searing. He tried to focus on Quidditch tryouts, which were coming up soon. He and Ron had continued to practice each evening out on the lawns, along with a lot of other hopeful students.

Harry was not too worried about making the team - Professor McGonagall still said he was the best Seeker she'd seen in ages. But he wanted more than anything to make Gryffindor Captain. Now that Oliver Wood had graduated, they'd be needing someone else to take the lead. 

"You'll get captain for sure," said Ron the evening before tryouts, as they made their way back up to the castle, brooms in hand. Ron had gotten a Firebolt for his birthday a few months before from his brother Charlie. It was old and a bit slower than the newer models, but it would be fine for tryouts. Harry, too, had a Firebolt. He'd gotten it when his first broom, the Nimbus Two-Thousand, broke during a grueling Quidditch match. He was considering buying a new broom when it came time for their annual trip to Hogsmeade, the wizarding village near Hogwarts.

Both Harry and Ron found sleep difficult that night, but for different reasons. Ron's mind was spinning, trying to remember all of the pointers Harry had given him. He wanted to play as a Chaser for the team. He thought about Hermione's encouraging words. "I've seen you practice, Ron," she had told him, "and you're brilliant!"

Harry thought about Voldemort. Where was he? Harry wished Sirius could come sooner than Halloween - that was still a month away. He wondered if Dumbledore knew about Voldemort gaining power, and if he had done anything to guard the school. Maybe that was why he'd decided to allow them to learn Apparation. Harry hated being the one who'd defeated Voldemort. He hated his stupid scar, and his stupid luck. _Hell, _he thought, _I didn't really defeat him. I was just a dumb baby, I didn't do anything special. _Finally, amidst these melancholy thoughts, Harry drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, the whole school was abuzz about Quidditch tryouts. Classes had been cancelled for the day, and it had been declared a "Quidditch Holiday" by Professor Dumbledore. Harry and Ron ate a hurried breakfast with Hermione and Felicity, then went straight outside to practice. The sky around Hogwarts Castle was crowded with broomsticks of all makes and models.

Around mid-morning, Madame Hooch stepped onto the lawns and blew an enchanted whistle that could be heard around the school. The excited throng of students made their way to the Quidditch stadium, where they were directed to sit with their houses on each corner of the field. Madame Hooch announced that tryouts would be held for each house, one at a time, beginning with Hufflepuff.

The rest of the houses mingled amongst themselves as the Hufflepuffs, bedecked in their yellow Quidditch robes, took to the field. Ron and Harry were talking to Seamus Finnigan when Felicity approached them, a broom in her hand. And not just any broom: it was the brand new, top of the line, everyone-wants-one-but-there-aren't-enough-to-go-around, Phoenix Flier. 

"Hey, guys!" said Felicity to her friends as she approached. The three boys just gaped at her broom. It was sleek and streamlined, with sharp silver bristles and rubber grip near the top of the golden stick. It sparkled triumphantly in the morning sun.

"What are you doing here?" asked Ron, his eyes fixed hungrily on the broom. 

"Same as you," Felicity explained, "trying out for the Gryffindor team. Professor McGonagall said I can tryout, even if I'm only going to be here for one year." Harry's eyebrows raised. He was quite impressed. She'd never mentioned that she played Quidditch.

"What position are you trying out for?" asked Seamus. "By the way, bang-up broom you got there!"

"Thanks!" Felicity laughed. "I'm trying out for Chaser. That's what position I played back at home. I was captain of the Liberty Belles - the all-girls' team at my school." Harry smiled at her. _Won't it be great if we're both on the team? _he thought. _That would mean extra time spent with her…_

After the Hufflepuff tryouts were finished, it was Slytherin's turn. Harry scowled as Malfoy auditioned for the position of Slytherin Seeker. Next came Ravenclaw, and finally it was time for the Gryffindors to take the field. 

Madame Hooch called for those who wished to play Keeper, first. Seamus went up with a few others and took turns guarding the three goal posts from Madame Hooch's bewitched Quaffles. 

Next, she called for Beaters. The Bludgers needed no enchantments to make them fling themselves toward the players. Several people were quite unprepared, as they had only practiced with melons, and were sent sprawling to the ground below. Fred and George Weasley, however, were expert Beaters, and hit the Bludgers with ease.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and summoned the Chaser hopefuls. Harry wished both Ron and Felicity luck as they mounted their brooms and flew out onto the field. Harry watched as Felicity rose effortlessly into the air, her pretty hair blowing back behind her. She was an excellent flier, and, as Harry and the rest soon found out, an excellent Chaser. She handled the Quaffle with ease, weaving in and out of the obstacles Madame Hooch had provided as if they weren't even there. She scored goal after goal, the red ball whizzing past the temporary Keeper.

Ron did very well, too. Harry watched with bated breath as he caught the Quaffle and made his way to the goal posts. He missed only once, and Harry cheered him on from the ground.

Madame Hooch blew once again on her whistle, and the Chasers put their feet back on the ground. "Seekers!" she shouted, and Harry and two other boys took to the sky. Madame Hooch unlocked a small box, and sent three tiny balls into the air. They were not real Snitches, and were actually a bit smaller. Harry locked his eyes on one of the balls, which came zigzagging around him. He spun sharply and shot after it, his hand outstretched. He was on the ground with the fake Snitch in his fist before the other two had even decided which ball to go after.

The same drill was done three more times, and each time Harry won. Ron and Felicity cheered and clapped as he landed, patting him on the back. They wouldn't find out the results of the tryouts until dinner that evening, so they speculated excitedly as they walked back up to the castle. 

Hermione met them at the front hall, and asked enthusiastically how they did. "I'm sure you all made the team," she said as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "The only bad part is that I'll have to watch the matches alone!"

The day couldn't go fast enough for all of the students who had tried out. The only thing one could hear throughout the corridors, the lawn, and even in the bathrooms, was talk of Quidditch. Finally, the time came to gather for supper, and the excitement rose to a noisy climax. After everyone had taken their seats at the four house tables, Professor Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat.

"I know that you are all anxious to learn who has made the house Quidditch teams this year," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I certainly can't wait any longer. So, without further ado, will Madame Hooch please rise and announce her final decisions!"

The hall erupted with applause as Madame Hooch stood up and surveyed the students with her golden eyes. She pulled a scroll out of thin air and unrolled it slowly. "I shall announce the team players in the order in which tryouts were held, beginning with Hufflepuff," she said. The room was silent as she read the names of those who had made the Hufflepuff team. When she had finished, the Hufflepuff table cheered and patted its new Quidditch team on the backs.

Harry held his breath as she announced the Slytherin team. He shook his head as she said, "Slytherin Seeker: Draco Malfoy." The Slytherin table clapped and hollered, and Crabbe and Goyle raised Malfoy's arms in a triumphant pose. Draco shot a haughty look at Harry.

Madame Hooch then announced the Ravenclaw team, and finally it was time for Gryffindor. "Gryffindor Keeper: Seamus Finnigan!" All of Harry's table clapped, and Ron slapped Seamus on the back. "Gryffindor Beaters: Fred and George Weasley!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione cheered as if they hadn't expected Fred and George to get the positions. They were the best Beaters in the school - a shoe in. "Gryffindor Chasers: Jonathan Bartwig, Felicity Dizzle, and Ron Weasley!" An explosion of cheers from Harry, Hermione, George, and Fred, along with the rest of the Gryffindors. "Gryffindor Seeker," said Madame Hooch, pausing for effect, "Harry Potter!" Harry's friends showered him with hugs and cheers, and he thought he even felt a light kiss on the cheek come from Felicity's direction.

"And finally to announce the new Gryffindor Team Captain," said Madame Hooch. Everyone quieted, waiting. Harry's fingers were crossed in his lap. Madame Hooch smiled over at the Gryffindor table. "Students of Gryffindor, please welcome your new Captain: Felicity Dizzle!"

Cheers once again rose into the air, and everyone was congratulating Felicity. Harry's heart sank a little as he gave her a high-five. He tried to smile and cheer her on with the rest of the Gryffindors, but a tiny bitterness boiled deep within him.


	12. Draco's Soft Side

Halfway through supper, Draco Malfoy made his way over to the Gryffindor table. He tapped Felicity on the shoulder, and she turned in her seat to face him. "Oh, hi, Draco!" she said cheerfully.

Malfoy smiled. "Congratulations, Felicity," he said in his oily voice. "Too bad for Potter, though. He really wanted that position. But, it looks as if the best player has been chosen." With these last words, he turned his eyes cruelly on Harry. 

"Well, I wouldn't say that," said Felicity humbly. "I think maybe they just gave me the job because I'm the new girl and they feel sorry for me." Harry glared at her.

"That's not true, and you know it, Felicity. You're the better player, so just accept the glory," he said, rather bitterly. She looked hurt by the coldness in his voice. This chill did not go unnoticed by the others, who all fell silent. Malfoy turned back to Felicity, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Well, I, for one, am happy for you," he said. "What do you say we meet later tonight and have a little celebration party? Just you and me - it'll be fun." Felicity paused a moment. She knew how much her friends hated Draco, but she didn't want to be rude just because of that. She looked at Harry, who was poking rather sulkily at his food, and made up her mind.

"I would love that," she said to Malfoy. He smiled and nodded, almost shyly.

"Right, then," said Draco, "we'll meet at eight o'clock in the front hall." Felicity nodded and Draco swept back to his own table. Harry shot Felicity a dark look.

"How many times do I have to tell you that Malfoy is trouble?" he said. She frowned. "Nothing good can possibly come from hanging around with him, Felicity, he's a nasty little pratt!"

"You know what, Harry?" Felicity hissed back at him. "I think you're jealous! You're jealous of me for getting team captain, and you're jealous of Draco for - well, I don't know why you hate him, but it's not right! Sorry to come along and steal your sunshine, Harry, but it's not like I tried out for the team just to show you up!" By now all of Gryffindor were watching and listening. Harry's face reddened.

"I'm not jealous! Not of you and certainly not of Malfoy! If you must know I like you a lot and I'm perfectly happy for you for becoming captain! In fact, let's all have a party right here! Hooray for Felicity, the new Gryffindor Captain!" he shouted at her.

"Would you just stop? I get the picture! I know, I'll just tell Madame Hooch that I can't be captain, because I couldn't bear to take any of the limelight from the amazing Harry Potter!" she shouted back. "Thanks for nothing!" She stood up. "Congratulations, Ron. 'Bye, Hermione," she said quietly, then left the hall.

After supper, Ron, Harry, and Hermione sat near the fire in the Gryffindor common room. The rest of the meal had been rather quiet and awkward, and none of them knew where Felicity had gone. 

"Sorry you didn't make captain," said Hermione gently. Harry didn't look at her. He just stared into the fire. "Well, there's always next year," she added.

"Yeah, Harry, you'll be sure to get it next year," Ron said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I don't want you two feeling sorry for me," he said. "I really am glad for Felicity. I guess this is what I get for being so sure of myself. I never really thought about someone else becoming captain, I just always assumed…" He didn't finish. He realized more and more as the words came out of his mouth just how pig-headed he had been. Felicity was great out there. She was very level-headed on the field, and was the perfect person to lead the team to victory. 

"You should talk to her," suggested Hermione. "You need to swallow your pride and apologize. That will make things better." Harry nodded. She was right. He owed Felicity a huge apology. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes till eight. He stood up. 

"I'll see you guys later," he said, and went up to his room. He pulled his trunk from under his bed and opened it. After rummaging through it for a few moments, his hand fell upon the invisibility cloak. He pulled it out, put it on, and crept silently out of Gryffindor Tower.

He made his way down to the front hall, where he found Malfoy waiting rather nervously for Felicity. He had a small box in his hand. Harry had the urge to punch him in the face. That would be great - Malfoy would never know what hit him. Just then, Felicity came down the stairs and walked past the invisible Harry. She smelled so good, he thought. She was wearing jeans and a pretty red sweater, and her long hair was pulled back into a braid.

"Hey, Draco!" she greeted Malfoy. He said hello back, and offered her his arm. She took it, and they went out onto the lawn. Harry followed closely behind, making sure to walk gently on the grass. Malfoy and Felicity sat down on a stone bench near a large rose bush.

Harry settled himself nearby. "Congratulations again on becoming captain," said Malfoy. "Too bad it's for Gryffindor, though. I think if you had been sorted properly you might just have been in Slytherin. You're definitely smart enough." Harry cringed to think of her in Slytherin.

"Thanks," said Felicity. She turned her eyes to the dark sky and smiled. "I love stars. They're my favorite things," she said. Malfoy looked up, too. He glanced at her before slowly pulling his wand out of his pocket. Harry tensed. What was he going to do to her?

Malfoy murmured something and waved his wand at the sky. To Felicity's delight, one of the stars began to sparkle and flash. Suddenly, it fell from the sky, leaving a twinkling trail behind it, and stopped to hover in front of Felicity. Draco reached out and took the tiny star in his hand. He tapped it once with his wand, and the star became attached to a silver chain, which he fastened around Felicity's neck.

Harry's mouth hung open. He had to admit it was quite impressive magic. Felicity put her hand on the shining star that now hung around her neck, and smiled at Draco. "Thank you," she said. "It's beautiful! Will it always glow?"

"It is a star, isn't it?" said Malfoy. He handed her the box he had been holding. She looked at him for a moment before taking it. "Go ahead, open it," Malfoy said. She pulled the lid off the box, and inside was a tiny replica of the Statue of Liberty. It looked just like the real thing, torch glowing and all.

"Draco, it's wonderful!" she said, turning the little statue over and over in her hands. "Thank you so much!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"I thought it might be useful for when you get homesick," said Draco. "It's bewitched so that if you look inside through the Statue's eyes, you can see your family." Felicity held the statue up to her eyes and gasped. 

"I can see them!" she said excitedly. "They're just sitting down to lunch! Big time difference, you know." She looked so delighted. After watching her family for a few moments, she flung her arms around Malfoy's neck.

He hesitated for a moment before awkwardly hugging her back. That was the first hug Draco Malfoy had ever received. Ever.


	13. A Missing Owl

Harry hurried into the Gryffindor common room behind Felicity, still concealed under his invisibility cloak. It was nine o'clock, and the common room was nearly empty. Everyone else had retreated to their bedrooms to sleep or talk. Harry waited as Felicity went up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Then he threw off the cloak and hurried up to his own room.

He found Ron sitting on the floor, working on some Potions homework. Neville and Seamus were in a corner playing cards. "Hey, Harry, where did you go?" asked Ron, eyeing the cloak and already having a vague idea as to what the answer would be.

"I followed Felicity and Malfoy," Harry answered. Ron nodded his head, smiling. 

"And?" he asked. Harry put the cloak back into his trunk and sat down with Ron.

"And, Malfoy is going to be more competition than I had expected," he said. He told Ron all about the star and the statue. Ron's eyes were wide.

"Wow… Who would have thought Draco Malfoy would be such a smooth criminal?" he said. "But was he sincere?"

"I dunno," said Harry, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "He seemed to be, that's the bad part. Felicity is right - he really is different around her. He's almost normal, almost… _sweet._ I just wonder if it's an act, if he's up to something." 

"So, what do you plan to do?" asked Ron. Harry thought for a moment.

"Well, first off, I'm going to talk to Felicity and apologize for what I said." Harry sighed. "I really was an ass, wasn't I?" 

Ron nodded, giving Harry a wry smile. "Yeah, you were. But I understand - you really wanted to be team captain."

"At least I got Seeker," Harry said positively. "That'll really give me a chance to shove it in Malfoy's face. And things will be great with both of us on the team, Ron. Slytherin won't know what's hit 'em." From there the conversation turned solely to Quidditch, and Seamus and Neville joined them, leaving their cards behind.

The next morning, Harry got ready early and waited in the common room for Felicity. She came down at last, looking lovely. Harry approached her nervously and pulled her to an empty corner of the room. She smelled heavenly, just as she had the night before. Harry cleared his throat as she looked at him seriously, waiting.

"Right, so first of all, I'm sorry for being such a git yesterday," he said rather quickly. She didn't say anything. "And," Harry went on, "I want you to know that I truly am glad to have you as our captain, and that you'll do a wonderful job, and that we'll be sure to win the Quidditch Cup with you in the lead."

Felicity took a deep breath. "Thank you," she said. Her expression softened a little. "Don't you have one more apology to make, though?" she asked suddenly. Harry thought for a moment.

"Um, I don't think so," he said slowly, beginning to panic. What was he forgetting? She gave him a sly smile.

"For eavesdropping on me and Draco last night," she said. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He could feel himself turning red. How did she know? What should he say? But she spoke again before he could. "I wear contact lenses," she said, "and last year my father gave me magic ones for my birthday. They can see through invisibility cloaks."

Harry's eyes widened, and he felt extremely stupid. "I - uh, well, I - I'm sorry, Felicity. I didn't mean any harm, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all," he choked out.

"Harry, I can take care of myself. And I've told you over and over again that Draco isn't so bad," said Felicity calmly. Harry's eyes dropped to the floor. 

"I'm sorry, Felicity. It won't happen again," he said honestly. She put her hand on his arm. He looked up and she smiled warmly at him.

"I know, Harry," she said gently. Her hand was still on his arm. He could feel himself melting as he looked into those blue eyes. Just then, Ron and Hermione came into the common room.

"Hey, Harry, Felicity," said Ron. She turned around, her hand dropping from Harry's arm. 

"Everything all right?" asked Hermione meaningfully. Harry just nodded. "Great! Shall we go to breakfast, then?" They made their way out of the common room and down to the great hall, where the tables were just beginning to fill. The conversation of the morning still rested heavily on Quidditch, but Harry felt much better about it now. He was able to chat enthusiastically with everyone else about the new team and what strategies would be used this year.

Classes that day went slowly, as it was Friday and everyone was waiting anxiously for the weekend. Snape was extra cranky in Potions, and Filch gave them more busy-work than they had ever dreamed of. Apparation was a slow moving class, as there didn't seem to be much to it. Filch concentrated most of his lectures on the fine art of concentrating, and performed drill after drill of making them focus on one stupid thing or another. Harry just wanted to actually try Apparating for once. 

After supper that evening, the four of them went down to visit Hagrid. He was up to his usual doings, taking care of the water sprites, as well as a few other strange creatures that Harry would rather not have met. 

"Hagrid, would you consider having a more ordinary pet," said Hermione, "such as a cat?" Hagrid wrinkled his nose at the mention of cats.

"Nah, I couldn't have a cat," he said. "I'm allergic to 'em summat awful. One look at a cat and I get to sneezing like my head might fly off my shoulders!" He held up his new pet komodo dragon, stroking its scaly skin lovingly. "This here is more my kinda fellow!" The great lizard's tongue whipped about a few times, testing the air. 

"What's his name?" asked Ron. Hagrid's beady black eyes turned up to the ceiling of the hut as he thought.

"Well, now, I don't s'pose I've rightly named 'im," he said. "How's about Merlin, after the great wizard himself?" Everyone nodded, agreeing that Merlin was quite a noble name for a komodo dragon. 

They visited for a while longer, then went back up to the castle and into Gryffindor Tower. It was nine o'clock, so they had to content themselves with staying in the tower. Ron and Harry played a game of wizard's chess.

"You're getting better, Harry!" said Ron, as Harry's king punched Ron's in the face. Ron had been teaching Harry the finer points of the game, as Harry had never been very good at it.

Hermione and Felicity sat in a corner, talking. "So, what's going on between you and Malfoy?" asked Hermione. Felicity shrugged.

"Nothing's 'going on,'" she said. "We're just friends. He's really not bad at all, Hermione. He's actually a pretty sweet guy, in an odd sort of way." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, you're welcome to be friends with him all you want, but don't expect me to double date with you two - I can't stand him!" she said. Felicity nodded understandingly.

"And while we're on the subject of _dating,_" she said, "what about you and Ron? You two seem awfully chummy lately." Hermione flushed a little, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. She glanced over at Ron, who was laughing at Harry for making the stupidest chess move in the history of the game.

"I don't know," Hermione said shyly. "I am rather fond of him. Do you think he likes me?" 

"Likes you?? Hermione, he's crazy about you! You haven't noticed the way he gets all nervous when you're around, and how he always manages to sit next to you and walk next to you and-"

"All right! I get it!" interrupted Hermione, whose pink cheeks had flamed up to bright red. She smiled and looked at Ron again. He looked at the same time, and they both smiled awkwardly.

"Uh, huh," said Felicity with a smile. 

* ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ *

That night, when Harry and Ron went up to their room to go to bed, Harry went to Hedwig's cage to feed her. The cage stood empty on Harry's bedside table. He looked around, but she was nowhere in sight. Come to think of it, he didn't remember seeing her for the past couple of days.

"Ron," he said, "have you seen Hedwig?" Ron shook his head.

"Why, can't you find her?" Ron asked. Harry didn't answer. He wasn't too worried about his owl, for she had disappeared for days at a time before, when she had gotten the urge to go hunting. Still, something nagged at him.

He went to bed, hoping she'd be back the next morning.

But she wasn't. When Harry awoke, the cage was still empty. Everyone else was still asleep as he dressed and left the room. He went up to the Owlery, in the highest tower of the castle, but Hedwig wasn't anywhere among the other sleeping owls. She didn't show up at all that day, nor the next, nor the next. It was on the fourth day of her known absence that Harry began to worry.

"Ron, can I borrow Pigwidgeon to send a letter to Sirius?" he asked as they left Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. Ron just nodded. He wouldn't be able to talk for another few minutes, as he was still getting his mouth back after having been accidentally turned into a worm by Neville Longbottom.

Harry wrote a hurried letter to Sirius between classes, which read:

_Dear Sirius,_

I know you said you'd be coming on Halloween, but I didn't want to wait until then to tell you that something strange has happened. Hedwig is gone. She's been missing for four days, now, and that's not like her at all. I'm hoping she's with you, maybe, or that you've seen her recently. Please write back and let me know. By the way, I'm Seeker again for Gryffindor, thought you'd like to know!

See you on Halloween!

~Harry.

He tied the letter to Pigwidgeon's leg, and sent her off to find Sirius. He watched as she flew away into the horizon. Little did he know that it would be her last flight.


	14. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor

That afternoon, as they attended Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class, everyone became suddenly distracted as two Bandywits came sprinting down the lawn toward them. The one in front was screaming shrilly, as the other chased it with a large fly swatter.

"Orion!" gasped Felicity. Her Bandywit, who was again being assaulted by Harry's, came bounding into her arms. Shummy leapt at it, wielding the swatter like a sword.

"Come down, you rotten scum!" Shummy was shouting. "Ye can't just go running to your master all the time! I'll get ye soon! I'll get ye, and no mistake!" Harry grabbed Shummy and glared at it.

"What has gotten into you?" Harry demanded. Orion was clinging to Felicity in fear. "Why are you always after Orion? Why?" Harry shook the Bandywit, trying to make it answer.

"That's no Bandywit!" screamed Shummy angrily, pointing its tiny finger at Orion. "That's a rat, that's what that is! Lemme at 'im, lemme at 'im!" Felicity and Harry looked at each other, not knowing what to do. The whole class was watching as Shummy struggled to get out of Harry's grip.

"Hagrid, what do we do?" asked Felicity. "Harry's Bandywit keeps trying to kill mine!" Hagrid scratched his head.

"Well, I don' rightly know," he said. "That's strange behavior for Bandywits. I still don' know why Dumbledore lets you keep 'em, but -" he didn't finish. "Just keep those two separated, is all I can say," he said.

Later on, Harry locked Shummy in its cage and scolded it again. "Leave Orion alone!" Harry said, as Shummy shook the bars of the cage angrily. Felicity decided to keep Orion with her at all times, in a small purse hanging from her shoulder. They couldn't get either of the Bandywits to tell them why they kept fighting.

"You know, Professor Dumbledore never did tell us why he had us bring these things in the first place," said Ron as they ate supper that evening. Orion was sitting beside Felicity's plate on the table, watching Harry butter his bread.

"You want a bite?" asked Harry, offering a small piece to the Bandywit. Orion took the bread in its little golden hands, keeping its eyes on Harry. 

"Quidditch practice after supper, don't forget," said Felicity as she overheard Ron and Seamus talking about watching a movie later. "This will be our only practice before the match against Slytherin on Saturday," she added.

"Ouch!" gasped Harry suddenly, putting a hand to his forehead. Everyone stopped eating to look at him.

"You okay?" asked Ron. Harry nodded slowly. 

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his forehead. "It's just my scar - it's burning really badly all the sudden." Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances.

"You mean the way it does when You-Know-Who is around?" asked Hermione quietly. Harry just nodded, still rubbing his scar. It continued to burn until they began practice that evening. Felicity was a very good captain, coming up with wonderful game strategies. She wasn't bossy about it, either. She treated everyone as equals.

Hermione sat on the grass below, watching with Orion in her lap. Practice lasted for over two hours, until nine o'clock curfew came about and they had to go inside. When they reached the common room and all sat down to do a bit of homework, Harry's scar began to sting again.

"Here," said Hermione, taking out her wand. She performed a bit of magic on a handkerchief, making it ice cold to the touch. "Put this on your head, maybe that will make the pain stop." Harry held the cool cloth on his head as they finished their homework, but it only lessened the pain a little.

The days before the match against Slytherin passed faster than they would have liked. They had not had any more time to practice again, as they were all busy with classes and homework. Harry's scar continued to burn every now and then, always when he was with his friends. He began to worry. It was finally October, but Halloween still would not come for another couple of weeks, and he would have to wait until then to tell Sirius. Ron's owl still hadn't returned by Saturday.

"What is up with the owls?" asked Ron as they put on their scarlet Quidditch robes, preparing for the match. The whole school was already assembled out on the field, excited about the first Quidditch match of the year. Everyone was particularly eager to watch the two best houses, Gryffindor and Slytherin, go up against each other. 

"I don't know," said Harry. "It's been a week, now, and still no sign of Hedwig. I'm starting to get a little worried about her. She's never done this before." Ron looked troubled. 

"Pigwidgeon has never been gone this long, either," he said. "She may be a bit stupid, but she always returns within two days at the longest. Where was she going, anyway?" 

"I sent a letter to Sirius," said Harry, "so I'm afraid I don't know exactly where I've sent her. He wasn't able to tell me where he was in his last letter. He thought it might be too dangerous." Just then, they heard Madame Hooch's whistle blow out on the field. 

"All right, everyone," said Felicity as they made their way onto the green grass of the field, "we'll win this one. Just stick with what we practiced. Seamus, I've watched Slytherin practice, and their Chasers tend to favor the left goal post, so keep your guard tight on that one. Harry, get the Snitch. Draco's good, but you're better." With these words, Felicity gave Harry a wink and a warm smile, and he couldn't help but blush as he mounted his broom.

They took their positions on the field: Felicity in front, facing Slytherin's Captain, Luther Crag; Harry behind her, with Fred and George Weasley on either side of him; Ron and fellow Chaser, Jonathan Bartwig, stood ready on the flanks; Seamus was already hovering up near the goal posts. 

Harry's eyes met Draco Malfoy's, and they stared each other down, eyes flashing. Crabbe and Goyle had gotten positions on the Slytherin team as Beaters, and they slapped their palms with their clubs, sneering at Harry menacingly. Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and the crowded stadium erupted with cheers as both teams shot into the sky. The Quaffle was released, along with the Golden Snitch and the Bludgers. 

Felicity caught the Quaffle and flew around Crag in a wide arc, the red ball tucked under her arm. Ron shot around on the other side of Crag, and Felicity passed the Quaffle to him just as the other two Slytherin Chasers closed in on her. Ron charged across the field, dodging a Bludger that Goyle knocked his way. As he sped toward the goal posts, Crabbe flew in beside him and dealt him a heavy blow with his shoulder, sending Ron off course. Jonathan Bartwig raced underneath Ron, who dropped the Quaffle to him. Jonathan caught it and cut left across the field.

Harry circled high above the rest of the players, his keen eyes searching for a glint of gold. Malfoy rose up next to him, searching equally as hard. "Ready to see how a true wizard plays the game?" asked Malfoy. Harry ignored him, scanning the field.

Jonathan hurled the Quaffle to Felicity, who was waiting near the goal. Fred sped towards her, intercepting a Bludger that was heading her way. He raised his club and with a loud _crack! _sent the Bludger angling toward Slytherin Chaser Pansy Parkinson. The black ball hit the end of her broom, sending her spiraling off course. Felicity swooped under the Slytherin Keeper and tossed the Quaffle easily through the hoop on the right. Cheers rose into the air from the Gryffindor section of the stadium. Hermione clapped and whooped, along with Orion, who watched from the purse on her shoulder. 

"That's one for Gryffindor!" shouted the Hufflepuff fifth year who was to be the announcer for the match. Harry still hovered above the game, looking for the Snitch. Beneath him, the Quaffle was in Slytherin's possession. Ron was chasing after Luther Crag, who had the red ball hugged against his chest as he sped across the field. Crabbe hit a Bludger toward Ron, who was barely able to dodge it. The Bludger went whizzing past his red hair, then swung back around for another try. This time Ron didn't see it coming, and was hit square in the back, knocking the wind completely out of him. He stopped to catch his breath and Felicity took up the chase after Crag. 

The two other Slytherin Chasers nodded to each other from opposite sides of the field, then came hurling toward Felicity, one to her right, the other to her left. They slammed into her at top speed, then veered off into the air. Felicity's cry of pain could be heard throughout the stadium, and her broom sank toward the ground. A loud "BOOOOOOO!" could be heard from around the stadium as the Slytherin Chasers met mid-field for a high-five. Felicity hovered near the ground, her head spinning from the blow. 

Harry watched angrily, momentarily forgetting about the Snitch. Malfoy watched, as well, but with a slight smirk on his face. As much as he liked Felicity, he didn't want Gryffindor to win.

Ron and Jonathan Bartwig were close on Crag's tail. Crag passed the Quaffle to Pansy Parkinson, who shot toward Seamus with her jaw set. Seamus watched her eyes, trying to calculate what move she would make. He flew out to meet her at the left post, but she darted to the right at the last moment and tossed the Quaffle through the hoop. Seamus slammed his fist into the air in anger as the announcer shouted, "Slytherin scores, tying with Gryffindor!"

Felicity had regained her concentration by now, and flew out to catch the Quaffle before it reached the ground. She stayed low to the ground as she sped back toward her goal. Fred and George flanked her, batting away the Bludgers that Crabbe and Goyle sent hurling in her direction. Ron took position to the right of the goals, and whistled to her. Felicity lofted the Quaffle toward him, but Pansy Parkinson flew in from nowhere, grabbing the Quaffle. She headed back across the field, Ron on her tail.

George hit a Bludger at Pansy, who darted upward to dodge it. Jonathan flew in beside her and nudged her to the left. She shoved back with her shoulder. Jonathan continued to push her off course. Suddenly, Pansy grabbed the nose of Jonathan's broomstick and, with all her strength, shoved it down. She was stronger than she looked, for she managed to completely flip Jonathan's broom, sending him falling to the ground. He landed with a thud, his broom falling with a crack onto his head. He lay where he was, knocked unconscious. 

Felicity and Ron sped towards the goals, trying to head Pansy off. She passed the Quaffle to Crag, who passed it back to her, confusing Ron and Felicity. Pansy dodged a Bludger, and it continued past her toward Ron, who veered downward to avoid being hit again. Pansy threw the Quaffle with all her might toward the center hoop, but Seamus hit it back with the end of his broom.

However, Luther Crag was waiting below, and caught the ball. Fred sent a Bludger toward him, but it missed, and Crag looped around Seamus, scoring again. "Slytherin takes the lead with two goals!" came the voice of the announcer. 

"Don't worry!" shouted Felicity to Ron, who looked dismayed. "We've got time! Go high!" Following his captain's orders, Ron rose higher and sped toward the other end of the field. Felicity caught the Quaffle and went to meet him. Just then, Crag came speeding toward her from above. He dealt her a hard kick with his boot, spinning her broom. Felicity clung to the broomstick, trying not to fall off as it twirled. Hermione gasped to see her hanging from it. She swung her leg up and climbed back on, angrily searching for the Quaffle, which she had dropped in her struggle to keep her grip on the broom. Pansy Parkinson had it again. 

Harry and Malfoy still circled above, almost bored, watching for the Snitch. Harry darted suddenly toward the ground, his hand outstretched. Malfoy followed suit, speeding to catch Harry. They were neck and neck, heading straight down, a blur of scarlet and green. Suddenly Harry pulled up hard on the nose of his broomstick, leaving Malfoy to go crashing to the ground. Harry hurried back up into the sky above the game, laughing to himself. He hadn't seen the Snitch at all.

Malfoy sat dazed on the grass for a few moments, then looked angrily up to where Harry hovered, laughing. He jumped to his feet, grabbed his broom, and shot back into the air. How could he have been so stupid? He rose up next to Harry. "Well done, Potter," he spat, "you're better than I would have expected a Muggle-raised player to be. But I wouldn't try that again, if I were you." 

Harry shot him an irritated look. "Malfoy, you'd better stop talking and look for the -" But Harry didn't finish. Instead he sped off to the right and swooped down. Malfoy hesitated for a moment, thinking Harry was trying to fake again, but then he, too, caught a glimpse of gold below. He hurried to catch Harry, but was too late, for Harry was already rising back into the air, the Golden Snitch clasped in his fist.

"Potter has the Snitch!" came the announcer's voice above the cheers of the crowd. "Gryffindor wins!" Malfoy cursed loudly at Harry. Both teams flew to the ground, and the Gryffindors all clapped each other on the backs. Felicity flung her arms around Harry's neck, while Ron and the rest of the team chanted his name. The Slytherins stood sulkily next to them, casting angry glances at their own Seeker. Malfoy just glared at Harry. 

"Way to go, Harry! You're still the best!" shouted Hermione in the stands. Hanging by her side, Orion looked on silently.


	15. A Muddled Meeting

Life at Hogwarts was sweet for the Gryffindors for the entire week after the Quidditch match. Malfoy was so sulky about having lost to Harry that he didn't bother them at all. He felt rather stupid for having been so haughty, and Ron reminded him of it every time he came close to saying something rude to one of them. He didn't even bother talking to Felicity for a few days. 

In this respect, Draco Malfoy was rather torn: he desperately wanted to talk to Felicity, but his anger at having lost the match stopped him. He hated losing. He hated losing to Harry Potter even more. One day during Potions class, Malfoy sat scribbling on a piece of parchment.

_Why does she have to be on Potter's team? Why does she have to be his friend? Why does he always get everything I want? I don't get it. My family is one of the oldest and most talented wizard families in history, and yet I can't win. And Potter hasn't ever done anything so special. Sure, he defeated the Dark Lord, but it was nothing but luck - sheer, dumb, zippity-doo-da luck! I hate him, I hate them all. Except her. I don't hate her…_

"Draco!" snapped Professor Snape, coming over to where Malfoy sat, chin in hand. "You should be paying attention! I expect better from you! What are you writing?" Malfoy quickly crumpled the parchment and shoved it into his pocket.

"Nothing, sir," he said quietly. Snape stared at him for a moment longer before sweeping back to the front of the classroom. Malfoy glared over at Harry and Ron, who were doing their best to hide smirks. His steely eyes then roamed to Felicity. She wasn't smirking. She swept her long, pretty hair out of her face and bent over her notes, paying great attention to Snape's lecture.

_She'll be mine, _thought Draco. _This is one thing I won't lose…_

*~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ *

Halloween finally came, to Harry's great relief. He still hadn't seen Hedwig, nor Pigwidgeon. They had been missing for over two weeks, now, and Harry was worried sick. His scar had continued to pain him, as well. He tried not to let it show, for he didn't want his friends to worry. Ron and Hermione, however, couldn't be fooled.

"Harry, maybe you should talk to Professor Dumbledore about it," suggested Hermione as they ate breakfast on Halloween morning. "He might be able to find out what's causing it."

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione, don't worry. I'm fine, really," he lied. His scar was searing at the moment. He took a sip of his pumpkin juice and continued to eat, his green eyes downcast. Felicity was buttering a slice of bread for Orion, who had become rather fat since it had started attending all of their meals. It was a quiet Bandywit, not saying much at all. Shummy, on the other hand, would not shut up, it seemed. Harry still kept it in a cage, though he had moved it to a larger one. He felt bad having to keep it locked up all the time, but he couldn't risk having Shummy kill Felicity's Bandywit. He felt a bit irritated at Dumbledore for not telling them why he'd required them to have Bandywits in the first place. It seemed pointless, as they weren't used for any of the classes, or for anything else, for that matter.

"Good thing we don't have classes today," said Ron, trying to cheer Harry up. "I don't know how much more of Filch's class I can take!" Hermione nodded.

"I agree," she said. "We've been in his class for nearly two months, now, and he hasn't done anything but waste our time!"

"Well, if he doesn't let us try Apparation in class soon, I'm going to just do it on my own!" said Felicity. "I mean, we know how to do it, don't we? According to Filch, you just concentrate on where you want to go and say _Appratio _and that's that." Everyone nodded.

"Actually," piped up Neville Longbottom, "my cousin tried it when he hadn't completed the course, yet, and he ended up stuck to the ceiling. It was awful trying to get him down!" Everyone chuckled, thinking that clumsiness must run in the Longbottom family.

The day passed extremely slowly for Harry, as he awaited his meeting with Sirius. Just as Sirius had asked, Harry hadn't mentioned the meeting to a soul, even when Ron badgered him about why he was so anxious for the day to end.

"It's a holiday, for Merlin's sake, Harry!" he said. "Have a little fun!" But Harry couldn't have fun. Not with his scar burning like it was. Finally, he had to get away. He excused himself from his friends, and went out on the lawn for a walk. Outside the castle, the fall air was becoming crisp and cool. It did wonders for Harry's scar, for he hadn't been outside for more than a few minutes when the pain eased, and then disappeared altogether. He moseyed over to Hagrid's hut, and knocked on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in!" came Hagrid's jolly voice from inside. Harry entered and found his friend sitting at the table, knitting a sweater. It was a strange hobby for someone like Hagrid, but Harry thought he was actually rather good at it.

"And what can I do for Mr. Potter, today?" asked Hagrid as Harry sat across from him. Harry sighed.

"Nothing," he said. "Just felt like getting out of the castle for a while. What are you making?" Hagrid held up his project proudly. It was striped in red, orange, and yellow.

"A sweater for Madame Maxime," he said rather shyly. Harry smiled. Madame Maxime was the headmaster of the French school, Beauxbatons. She and Hagrid had become pretty chummy two years ago when the Triwizard Tournament had been held at Hogwarts.

"I didn't know you two still kept in touch," said Harry. "So, you and Madame Maxime got pretty friendly, huh?" Hagrid blushed under his wily beard. 

"Now, Harry," he said through a childish grin, "that ain't none of yer business. Madame Maxime and I are just _friends_. That's it, just acquaintances." 

"Riiiight. And Professor Snape wears women's underwear," said Harry.

"How did you know that?" joked Hagrid. They sat for a long time, joking lightheartedly and reminiscing about years passed. Harry quite forgot about his troubles, and his scar didn't bother him once during the entire afternoon.

That evening, the Great Hall was noisy with excitement as the Halloween Feast got underway. Professor Dumbledore began by giving a short speech, and then the tables filled with more food than any could imagine. There were eight different salads, five different kinds of meat, twelve different pies, three kinds of bread, and more sweets than any of the students could dream of eating. The Great Hall was decorated in its usual Halloween attire: orange and black streamers and banners hung from every rafter and column, grinning jack-o-lanterns hovered above the tables in place of candles, and live bats fluttered to and fro above the feast. The ghosts were flying about, singing merrily and congratulating each other on their brilliant, yet translucent, costumes.

Felicity had left Orion locked safely in her trunk, not wanting to have to look after him during the feast. Ron gave Hermione all of his pumpkin pasties, an act which Harry guessed was a huge sacrifice, and Hermione repaid him with a very timid kiss on the cheek. Looking up at the bewitched ceiling, Harry saw that the sky was finally dark, and littered with millions of twinkling stars. When at last the meal ended, Harry slipped away from the crowd headed up to the towers, and stole into the night.

When he reached the lawn, he pulled his invisibility cloak out from under his black dress robes and wrapped it around himself. Then he headed off to meet Sirius. He went down to where the forest came close to the lake, then skirted the lawn back around Hagrid's hut and down a slope. The castle behind him became hidden by the hill, and Harry looked around for the black dog that would be Sirius.

A sound behind him made him jump. Catching his breath so as to keep silent, Harry spun around. Hagrid's large boarhound, Fang, came barking down the hill. The dog ran right past Harry and took off toward the forest. Harry watched as Fang went into the wall of dark trees, and came out again chasing a large, shaggy black dog. 

"Sirius!" shouted Harry, forgetting his silence. "Fang, no!" But Fang did not heed him. Instead, the great dog bounded after Sirius, barking and growling. The chase went on for several minutes, until finally the black dog turned to face Fang. Harry was horrified as the dogs began to fight, growling and biting at each other's necks.

"Fang!" came a booming voice from behind. Harry turned to see Hagrid hurrying toward the dogs, not aware that an invisible Harry stood not ten feet from him. "Fang, down boy! Come on, Fang! Come!" Fang gave one last snarl at the black dog before obeying his master. "Come on, Fang, let's go home," Hagrid said to his dog. Then he turned to Sirius. "And you! Shoo! Go on, get outta here!" He gave a kick with one of his enormous boots, and Harry, helpless, saw the great black dog run off into the night.


	16. Pegasus Tears

Ron couldn't sleep. He stared up at the ceiling above his bed, listening to Neville snore. Harry had come in that night extremely angry about something, but he wouldn't tell Ron what had happened. Ron looked over at Harry, who was now sleeping soundly in the bed next to his. On the other side of Ron's bed, Neville stirred and mumbled something in his sleep. Irritated at his own insomnia, Ron got up and went quietly down to the common room. The large room was dimly lit by the fireplace, and was empty except for one other person.

"Can't sleep either?" came Hermione's voice from a chair in front of the fire. Ron shook his head and pulled another chair up next to hers. 

"I couldn't stand to listen to Neville sleep any longer," said Ron, rolling his eyes. Hermione smiled.

"What was up with Harry tonight?" she asked. 

"I don't know, he wouldn't tell me. He was awfully mad about something, though," said Ron. "Probably something about Malfoy." He looked at Hermione. She was gazing into the fire, her pretty face lit up by the orange light. "Hey," he said suddenly, "I want you to know I'm sorry for all the rotten things I've said to you over the years."

Hermione looked at him, rather taken by surprise. "That's okay. I wasn't the nicest to you, either, you know. Good thing Harry was always there to mediate." They laughed, both remembering times passed. Ron slowly scooted his chair closer to hers, so that the arms of the chairs touched. He reached out and put his hand on hers. They sat long into the night, holding hands and talking. Finally, they decided they'd better go and try to get some sleep. 

Ron walked with her over to the stairway leading up to the girls' dormitory. They paused for a moment, looking at each other awkwardly. His heart racing, Ron leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He felt her arms rest upon his shoulders, and he hugged her tightly around the waist. Her lips tasted like strawberries. When they finally drew away from each other, Hermione smiled at him, her face flushed, and hurried up the stairs. Ron got back into bed, and fell quickly asleep, a grin on his face.

*~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ *

The following morning, Harry got up before everyone else and dressed hurriedly. He left Gryffindor tower and made his way through the chilly, empty corridors, which were dimly lit by the gray light of the morning. He hadn't bothered to bring his invisibility cloak, since he was aloud to be out of bed at this hour, and he knew everyone else would still be sleeping, anyway. He went out onto the foggy lawn. 

The air was thick with mist, and chilled him to the bone, despite his thick sweater. Harry hurried back around Hagrid's hut and down the slope, hoping that maybe Sirius had waited overnight. But there was no sign of the black dog. Harry stepped up to the edge of the Forbidden Forest and peered in through the dark trees. All was still.

"Sirius?" called Harry softly. "Are you in there?" No answer. Harry frowned and made his way slowly back up the hill. He glared at Fang, who was tied up outside Hagrid's door. Fang just wagged his tail happily at Harry, not understanding how much Harry wanted to kick him at the moment.

Harry had almost made his way back up to the large doors of the castle, when a voice behind him made him jump. "Good morning, Harry. My, you're up early!" Harry spun around to find Professor Dumbledore sitting on a stone bench near a large rose bush. The old wizard looked regal in his deep scarlet robes and tall, pointed hat. His silvery beard cascaded down the front of his robes, and his half-moon spectacles were propped neatly on the end of his crooked nose.

"Hello, Professor," said Harry, approaching Dumbledore and holding out his hand. Dumbledore shook Harry's hand warmly and slid over on the bench, making room for Harry. When Harry didn't sit, the old man patted the stone commandingly. Harry settled himself next to him.

"So, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore kindly, "what brings you about on the lawns so early on a Saturday morning?" 

"Just wanted to take a walk," said Harry, hoping Dumbledore wouldn't read his thoughts, as he sometimes seemed to be able to do. The Headmaster nodded.

"Yes, I, too, felt I needed to get out of doors, this morning," he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I hope you enjoyed your Halloween thoroughly?"

"I did," said Harry. "I enjoyed it very much, but -"

Dumbledore turned to look at Harry, who had paused suddenly. "But, what?" he asked gently.

"Well, it's just that I've been a bit worried lately," explained Harry. "My owl is missing, so I used Ron's owl to send a letter, and now that owl is missing, too. And on top of that, my scar has been hurting a lot lately."

Dumbledore frowned, surveying Harry's face. "Well, my boy, I wouldn't worry too much about the owls," he said. "Owls are strange and mysterious creatures. They are full of surprises. They'll come back when you least expect it." Harry just nodded, not too convinced. "And," continued Professor Dumbledore, "as for your scar, what do you think might be causing it to ache so?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, Professor. It always happens just when I'm having fun with my friends." Dumbledore was silent for a while, his misty eyes gazing at the glassy waters of the lake below. Finally, he stood up.

"Come with me, Harry. I have something I would like to give to you." Harry rose and followed Dumbledore into the castle and up many flights of stairs. They came to a statue of a large Phoenix, and the old wizard whispered something to the stone bird. Suddenly, the floor turned and scraped against the surrounding stone, and a large doorway was revealed. Dumbledore entered, Harry behind him. Harry looked around as the door closed again behind them. It was a bedroom. The walls were adorned with richly colored tapestries, depicting scenes of men and women of long ago, dancing and singing and riding gallantly on horses of shining silvery white. The large bed was covered in deep purple, and had matching curtains which hung airily on all sides.

"This, Harry, is my bedroom," said Professor Dumbledore, waving an arm proudly around him. "And you are the first student to ever enter here. I should, if I were you, feel quite proud of that fact." Harry smiled. "Please, have a seat!" said Dumbledore, signaling a small table with two chairs in a corner. Harry sat down and watched as the wizard poured him a cup of tea from a kettle that he had made appear with a snap of his fingers. Harry thanked him and sipped the tea, while Professor Dumbledore went to a large wooden wardrobe and pulled open the doors. 

He rummaged around in the wardrobe for quite sometime, muttering to himself as he did so. Finally he clapped his hands and said, "Aha! Here it is, I knew I had put it in here somewhere!" He left the wardrobe standing open and came back to the table where Harry sat patiently. In his hand was a small package. He handed it to Harry.

"I kept this wrapped up safely," explained Dumbledore as Harry opened it, "because I knew somehow that it would be needed one day - if not by me than by another." 

Harry found inside the package a small vial of a golden liquid. "Thank you, Professor," he said, "but what is it?"

Dumbledore smiled and sat down across from Harry. "That, Mr. Potter, is a bottle Pegasus tears. They have the power to stop any pain, and to heal any wound." Harry turned the tiny bottle over and over in his hands.

"Then it will make my scar go away?" he asked. The Headmaster shook his head.

"No, Harry, I am afraid that that scar, coming from such a terrible and evil curse, will remain on your head forever. The tears can, however, take the pain away from it. But use it wisely, Harry. For in the past, your scar has acted as a warning to you, when danger was near. If you use the Pegasus tears to numb it too much, you might forget to heed the warning, and find yourself caught unawares." 

Harry shuddered at these words. Professor Dumbledore was watching him intently. "Professor, why are you giving this to me? Don't you need it?" asked Harry. The great wizard smiled warmly at him.

"I am old, Harry, and have little use for adventure. I do not need such a medicine. But you, my dear boy, have a knack for finding danger and excitement - or they have a knack for finding you. Either way, I think you might make more use of this magic substance than I ever could." With that, Dumbledore rose and, with a wave of his hand, cleared the tea and cups from the table.

"Thank you so much, Professor," said Harry, also standing. Dumbledore smiled at him and led him to the door. 

"Keep it safe, Harry, and use it only when you must, for that is all I have, and it is not much," he said.

"Don't worry," said Harry, "I'll keep it safe." Professor Dumbledore gave him a wink, and pulled on a golden rope, at which the hidden doorway opened once more. Harry left him, and went down to breakfast feeling much better, the little bottle tucked safely in his pocket.


	17. Mis-Apparation

Harry only told Ron about his meeting with Professor Dumbledore. "But, Ron, you have to promise you won't tell anyone about the Pegasus tears. I'd rather keep it a secret."

"Don't worry, Harry, I won't say anything," promised Ron. "Hey, did you ask Dumbledore why he had us bring the Bandywits?"

Harry frowned. "No, I forgot all about them," he said regretfully. Ron shook his head.

"Well, that stinks. Riggle has been nothing but irritating. He wants food constantly. I swear, if I fed him as much as he asked me to, he'd be too big for his cage!" Ron's Bandywit had already gotten much fatter since Ron had bought him. It's little brown clothes no longer fit, so Ron had made a clumsy outfit for it out of an old sock.

"What is this?" Riggle had demanded, surveying the sock-clothes with disgust. "You expect me to wear this thing? What do ye take me for? I am not a fool! Riggle has his pride!" In the end, the Bandywit had no choice. He got rather cold standing there naked.

Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione acted a little odd that day. They kept stealing glances at each other, and they sat closer than usual at lunch. That afternoon, Harry sat for a while in the Gryffindor common room with the two of them, but soon got tired of watching them flirt, and decided to go to the library and work on his Transfiguration homework.

"Felicity is in the library," Hermione told him when he announced his plans. Harry just nodded and gathered his books. When he entered the immense library, Harry set out to find Felicity. After a while, he saw her sitting at a table near a window, bent over a piece of parchment, headphones on her ears. He approached her without her noticing. He watched her for a moment. She was bobbing her head to whatever music she was listening to, and humming slightly to herself. She looked beautiful, Harry thought.

Finally, she looked up, startled to find someone watching her. She took the headphones off and left them hanging around her neck, her music still playing. "Hey, Harry, have a seat!" she said with a smile. Harry pulled out the chair across from her and settled himself down, plopping his books onto the table.

"What are you listening to?" he asked. Felicity turned off the portable CD player and took the headphones off of her neck.

"Green Day," she said. "They're one of my favorite bands. The Muggles love them - they have no idea that the whole band are wizards!" She laughed. "But, I don't need to listen to it anymore now that I have someone to talk to. I can't stand too much quiet, you know?" Harry nodded.

"Working on your Transfiguration homework?" he asked. Her course book was open on the table beside her parchment. Felicity shook her head, a guilty smile on her face.

"No, I was writing a letter to my family," she said. "I miss them a lot. It's hard to go so long without seeing my parents, know what I mean?" Just then she gasped, realizing what she had said. 

Harry smiled sadly. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. 

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," apologized Felicity, reaching out and putting her hand on his. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," said Harry, smiling at her. Her hand was warm on his. "I've got family here. And Ron's mum and dad have sort of taken me as one of their own."

"That's great," said Felicity. "You deserve the best, Harry." They were silent for a moment, both thinking. Finally, she removed her hand from his and pulled her Transfiguration book in front of her. "Well, shall we get some of this stupid homework finished?" 

"Sure," Harry said, opening his book. They worked for a long time, studying the various methods of Transfiguration. They laughed about Neville's antics in the classroom, especially about his turning Ron into a worm.

"Poor, poor Neville," laughed Felicity. "He really doesn't have a clue, does he?" Harry felt like he could sit there with her forever. He was almost sad when they finished their homework, and it was time for supper. They got up and headed to Gryffindor tower to put their books away. Harry noticed that she didn't have Orion with her. He asked where the Bandywit was.

"Oh, I got sick of listening to him complain about everything, so I locked him in my trunk, which he didn't like at all. He really needs to learn to be grateful for all the things I do for him. Bandywits are nothing but a pain in the butt, if you ask me."

When they got up to the tower, Felicity climbed the stairs to her bedroom and put her books on the bed. Then she got Orion's purse and went to get him out of the trunk to take him down to dinner. She let out a gasp when she found the trunk lid open, and Orion nowhere in sight. She hurried down the stairs and entered the common room just as Harry came back down from his room.

"Harry! Harry, did you see Orion anywhere?" she asked, panicked. "I went to take him out of my trunk, and the lid was open and Orion wasn't there!" Harry put his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her.

"Felicity, it's okay, I'm sure Orion is fine," he said soothingly. "How do you think he got out? Was the lock broken?"

"No, it was just open!" said Felicity.

"Well, maybe Orion opened it from inside," suggested Harry. "You said yourself that he didn't want to go in there." Felicity shook her head.

"No, Bandywits aren't smart enough to pick locks. They know nothing about that sort of thing. Someone must have let it out. What should I do?" She was beginning to panic again. "I mean, what if Shummy finds him? They'll fight again!"

"Calm down, Shummy is up in my room, locked in its cage," said Harry. "And don't worry, I'm sure Orion will turn up again when it gets hungry. Okay? Come on, let's go eat, and he'll probably be here when we get back." Harry put his arm around her shoulders and led her through the portrait hole, out into the corridor. 

They met Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall, and had a wonderful dinner of steak and potatoes. Harry was glad to find that his scar didn't bother him once during the meal, as it had been doing the past couple of weeks. He had the bottle of Pegasus tears in his pocket, however, just in case.

* ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ *

The next day they had Apparation, with Professor Filch. It still felt odd to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, to call him "Professor." Everyone was abuzz in the classroom with the rumor that today would be the day Filch would actually let them try Apparating. Filch popped in - literally - late, as usual. He seemed in a fouler mood than usual, and Seamus whispered that it was because Fred and George had turned his beloved cat purple. Sure enough, in stalked Mrs. Norris, her fur a lovely shade of violet.

"Now," growled Filch, glowering at the class, "today we'll all try a small Apparating exercise." A murmur swam around the classroom as everyone became excited. "I'll want each of you to choose a partner," continued Filch. "Then, one at a time, you'll Apparate yourself out into the corridor. When you have successfully traveled to the hall, you will come back into the classroom immediately, and then it shall be your partner's turn. Does everyone comprehend?"

The whole class nodded their heads simultaneously, and Filch gave a sniff. "Right, then, pair up!" There was a loud scraping of chairs as everyone found their partners. Ron and Hermione found each other immediately, and Harry was quite glad to have Felicity ask him to be her partner. Draco Malfoy got stuck with Slytherin girl, Pansy Parkinson, whom he did not like at all. Pansy had had a crush on Draco since their very first year at Hogwarts, and she was constantly clinging to his arm. He glared over at Harry, who was talking cheerily to Felicity.

"All right, then," said Filch. "Remember to concentrate, and enunciate your spell. Go ahead and give it a try." Excitement and nervousness emanated from the room as one by one, the students began to try it. Ron let Hermione go first, as she insisted. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the corridor outside the classroom. "_Appratio!_" she said, and disappeared with a tiny _pop!_

Felicity went before Harry, as well. He wished her luck and joked that if she wasn't back in five minutes he'd send out a search party. She nervously closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. "_Appratio!_" she said. _Pop! _She was gone. Harry turned and watched the door, and a few seconds later, Felicity and Hermione came in together, talking excitedly. Ron managed to successfully Apparate, too, and was unfortunate enough to meet Malfoy in the corridor.

"Well, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Looks like you've made it on the first try. Good thing. I don't think you can afford any other means of travel, can you?" Ron held up his fist menacingly, but Malfoy just snickered and went back into the classroom.

Harry's turn had come, and Felicity was telling him that there was nothing to it. "Just concentrate and you'll do fine!" she said. Harry closed his eyes. _Corridor, corridor_, he thought over and over. He opened his mouth to speak the spell just as Malfoy was mocking Neville: "Hey, Longbottom! Be careful you don't send yourself into the Forbidden Forest!"

"_Appratio!_" said Harry, as the words 'Forbidden Forest' passed over his ears. With a slight tingling and a little popping sound, Harry felt a rush of wind, and then all was still. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the corridor and the other students Apparating around him. Instead, he found a thick wall of dark trees on all sides. He was in the Forbidden Forest.


	18. Searing Scar

Harry looked around, his mouth dry. He must have been deep in the forest, for he could see no sign of the bright green lawns around him. A very dim glow shone down from between the leaves of the thick canopy, but for the most part the woods were dark and silent. Harry's heart was pounding in his ears. How could he have made such a mistake? _Damn Malfoy,_ he thought. _Okay, okay, I'll just Apparate myself back to the classroom - no one will ever need to know this happened._

Suddenly there was a loud snapping of twigs to his left. Harry spun around, eyes wide. He squinted to see through the thick trees, but there was no sign of anything or anyone else in the forest. He was about to try Apparating back, when he caught a glimpse of a large shadow retreating away into the dark.

"Sirius? Is that you?" Harry called, before thinking. The shadow paused, and then took off in a run, going deeper into the forest. Harry felt a strong urge to follow it. He took a few steps forward. _Wait, what am I doing?_ he thought. _I don't know what that was - I can't just go chasing after it._ He watched and listened. The figure was gone. Harry closed his eyes and began to concentrate.

_Filch's classroom, Filch's classroom…_ "Appratio!" With the same popping sound and rush of wind, Harry found himself back in the classroom, surrounded by goggling eyes. 

"And where did you go popping off to, Mr. Potter?" snapped Filch, who was shoving his way through the crowd of students. Harry didn't say anything. He wasn't altogether sure just how long he had been gone. Ron, Hermione, and Felicity were all looking at him with imploring eyes. "Well?" growled Filch. Malfoy was standing behind Filch, smirking at Harry.

"I, uh," stammered Harry. "I accidentally went to the wrong corridor," he lied. Although Apparating to the Forbidden Forest had been an accident, he knew Filch would be all too glad to use it as a reason to give him detention. The trophies in the Trophy Room hadn't been polished in a long time.

Filch glared at Harry with narrowed eyes, then nodded. "Well, then, it looks like you'd better practice more on your concentration skills." He turned to address the whole class. "Yes, students, it is imperative that you concentrate on as specific a location as you can, so as to avoid unfortunate mishaps, like Mr. Potter's." The class just nodded. "Right, then, you are dismissed," said Filch. Everyone gathered their things, and left the Apparation classroom.

"So, where did you really go?" asked Ron when they had left the classroom. Hermione and Felicity were looking at him anxiously. Harry sighed.

"The forest," he said quietly. "I heard Malfoy say it just as I was Apparating, and it broke my concentration." Ron chuckled.

"Yeah, I knew it must have been somewhere bad," he said. "You were all shaken up, and honestly, Harry, you're not a good liar at all." Harry smiled, considering this rather a compliment. "Come on," Ron said, "let's go to lunch."

They enjoyed a relaxing mid-day meal, though Harry's scar burned slightly. Felicity had finally found Orion lurking in the Gryffindor common room, and he was hanging safely by her side. The owls, however, had still not returned. Harry had just about given up any hope of seeing them again, and something told him that their disappearance was no accident. His scar had been burning more than ever. He didn't tell his friends, though, for he didn't want them to worry about him. He kept the bottle of Pegasus tears in his pocket, and when his scar began to hurt, he would wait until no one was looking before he dabbed a bit on his forehead. 

Later that evening, Harry sat with Ron, playing a game of wizard's chess. "Ron, when I was in the forest today, I saw something," he said quietly to his friend. Ron looked up from the game, his brow furrowed.

"What was it?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"I don't know. At first I thought - or hoped - it might be Sirius, but when I came towards it, it ran. All I could see was a dark shadow. I don't know if it was even a man," he said. Ron was silent, watching him. 

"Harry, does your scar still bother you?" he asked suddenly. 

"Sometimes," said Harry. "Why to you ask?"

"I noticed you put that stuff on it today. What do you think is causing it?" asked Ron. Harry was about to say that he didn't know, when Felicity approached them.

"Hey, Hermione and I are going to go to the library before curfew comes around," she said. "Do you two wanna come?" Ron shook his head no, but Harry didn't answer. His scar had suddenly flared up with a fiery stinging. He struggled not to wince.

"Okay, then," Felicity said, and turned to walk away. "We'll see you in a while!" She turned and headed for the portrait hole.

"Wait!" cried Harry as the pain in his scar eased. Felicity stopped and came back to him. The burning increased again. 

"Yes, Harry?" she asked. He put a hand to his forehead.

"Oh, um, it was nothing," he stammered, "I'll see you later." Felicity shrugged and walked away again. Orion waved goodbye from Felicity's side, as Harry's scar stopped burning altogether.

"What was that about?" asked Ron, looking at Harry strangely. Harry watched as Felicity disappeared through the portrait hole.

"My scar burned when she came near me," he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Who, Felicity?" Ron said, his brows raised. Harry nodded.

"And when she walked away, the pain stopped. That's why I called her back over here, to see if it would happen again," explained Harry.

"And?" asked Ron.

"And it did."


	19. Dark Shadows... Dark Invitations

Harry and Ron sat in silence for a few minutes, both wondering why Felicity's presence would make Harry's scar burn. Harry gazed at nothing in particular, his brow furrowed. He ran his fingers thoughtfully over the thin red line on his forehead. Finally he spoke.

"It has to be a mistake," he said. Ron looked at him.

"Then why did your scar burn only when she came over here?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Harry. "Maybe it's just coincidence. I've been around her plenty of times, and my scar never hurt then."

"Yes, that's true," said Ron, but then a shadow passed over his eyes. "But, Harry, every time your scar has bothered you during the past few weeks, it has been when your with us - me, Hermione…. And Felicity." 

Harry just nodded. It couldn't be Felicity causing the pain. His scar only ached like that when evil was present, and he knew she couldn't be evil…. Could she?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that evening, Felicity sat alone by the window of the Gryffindor common room. She gazed up at the clear night sky and watched the stars twinkle at her. Her friends were all asleep, and she had tried to go to bed, but something was nagging at her, though she didn't know what. She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out the tiny Statue of Liberty that Draco had given her. She held the little statue up and looked into its eyes.

She could see her mother talking on the telephone to a client. Mrs. Dizzle was an executive witch at a large firm, Magical Marketing. The scene in the statue faded and then showed Felicity her little brother, Max. He was at school, sitting at a desk in the back of the classroom, making a paper broomstick. (The wizard boys' equivalent to a paper airplane.) After a few moments, the scene changed again, and Felicity saw her father, a tall, handsome wizard wearing a sharp suit. 

He was at his large desk, thumbing through a thick file. He stopped every now and then to talk to someone Felicity couldn't see, and then went back to perusing the file, seeming almost frantic at times. _Poor Dad, _thought Felicity, _he's always so busy. So stressed out._

Soon, the scene went back to her mother, who was still on the phone, and Felicity put the statue back into her pocket. Her eyes roamed back up to the sky. She thought about Harry. She could almost see his bright green eyes glowing with the stars, smiling down at her. She closed her eyes and saw Harry flying high on his broom, wearing his scarlet Quidditch robes. _He looks so good in that uniform, _she thought. Her lips curled into a thoughtful smile, and, leaning against the windowsill, she soon fell asleep, Orion in her lap.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the wee hours of the morning, when the sky was still dark, and there was only the slightest hint of gray in the east, a shadow fell upon Felicity's sleeping form. She was still on the windowsill, one arm laid across her stomach, the other hanging limp by her side. The shadow moved slowly across her face, its owner not wanting to wake her. It moved toward the dark stairway that lead to the boys' dormitory. Its owner set a foot on the bottom step, preparing to climb, but was severely startled by Peeves the poltergeist rushing past it. The ghoul nearly knocked the figure down as he flew past, but took no notice and floated through the wall on the opposite side of the common room. However, the shadow's owner, startled breathless, stumbled on the steps and came crashing to the ground with a loud thud.

Felicity's eyes shot open at the sound, and she sat bolt upright. The figure was scrambling to stand up, and Felicity heard a whispered curse at Peeves. Felicity put a hand over her mouth, holding back a scream, as the tall form of a man stalked back up the stairs. The man was covered in a black cloak, his face concealed, though in the dim light it would have been difficult to see in the first place.

Felicity stood up and quietly followed. The man was slowly and silently opening the door to Harry's room, but stopped and turned around, as if he sensed Felicity's presence. Leaving the doorway, the cloaked figure rushed down the stairs toward her. She screamed, hoping to wake up Harry and everyone else around. As if frightened by her shriek, the man paused, then pushed his way past her and sprinted across the common room, toward the portrait hole. Felicity didn't wait to see where he went, but instead hurried up the stairs and burst into Harry's room, just as he and Ron were coming out.

"Harry! Harry, there was a man, and he was trying to get into your room and he came toward me, and, and I screamed and he ran!" she cried all in one breath. Harry and Ron didn't say a word, but rushed past her and down the stairs. However, when they reached the common room, the figure was gone. Felicity came down after them, along with Neville, Seamus, George, and Fred.

"Where did he go?" Felicity asked frantically. Harry shook his head.

"I don't know," he said, squinting at her. He had forgotten his glasses in his panic. "There was no one here." All eyes turned to Felicity. Several girls were coming down the other staircase, worried expressions on their faces.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, coming to Ron's side.

"Felicity saw someone in the dormitory," said Seamus. "But when Harry and Ron got down here, he was gone."

"I swear he was here," said Felicity, beginning to feel stupid. "Harry, you believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he said. "Your scream scared him off, whoever it was. Everyone just go back to bed - Ron and I will stay in the common room just in case he decides to come back." After a few minutes, everyone filed back to their bedrooms, and Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Felicity took seats in the big armchairs near the fireplace. Felicity told them in more detail what she had seen. The four of them stayed up the rest of the night, but there was no more sign of the cloaked man. Indeed, the only one to be seen in the tower besides them was Orion, who after a while came meekly out from behind a curtain.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning all of Gryffindor house was abuzz with the news of the cloaked figure. Those who had not been awakened by the commotion listened wide eyed as Felicity relayed the whole story. When they had all gone to the Great Hall for breakfast, Felicity and Harry went to the head table and told Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall about what had happened. The headmaster exchanged glances with Professor McGonagall, and tugged thoughtfully at his beard. 

"Do not worry about it just yet," he said finally to Harry and Felicity. "I will post a teacher in Gryffindor Tower tonight, to be sure that all is well. I ask that you do not speak of this more than is necessary to your friends, as that might cause a panic - and we do not want a panic when we aren't sure what has even happened, understood?" His misty eyes twinkled kindly at them. The two students nodded, then went to join their friends at their table.

Meanwhile, the usual fluttering of wings could be heard overhead as the owl post began to arrive. Draco Malfoy sat at Slytherin table between Crabbe and Goyle, picking at his eggs and bacon, and listening to Pansy Parkinson blab about "that ignorant American girl telling the whole school that she was attacked by a man last night. Ugh, honestly, she's only saying that to get attention from Potter. We've all seen the sickening way she looks at him - it's sooo obvious…"

Draco rolled his pale eyes, wishing Pansy would shut her fat mouth, and took a sip of his coffee. An unfamiliar owl, with dark feathers and glinting golden eyes, swooped low over Draco's plate and dropped an envelope in his lap. He picked up the letter, his brow furrowed. It was a rare occasion for him to receive anything by post.

The address on the envelope read: "Mr. Draco Malfoy, Son of Lucius Malfoy, Son of Siron Malfoy. To be opened in PRIVATE." Draco reread it several times. The writing was in a dark green ink, and the letter, though thin, had a strange heaviness to it. He tucked it swiftly into his robes, careful that Crabbe and Goyle would not notice, and left the table. He hurried out of the Great Hall and down the many staircases to the Slytherin dormitories. Once he was alone in his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and opened the envelope. Inside was a black piece of parchment, and on it, written in glittering green letters, was the following message:

_"Draco Malfoy,_

On behalf of the Order of the Skull, commonly known as the 'Death Eaters,' you are invited to join our ranks in the faithful service of the Dark Lord. Your progress has been closely observed, and we deem you a worthy wizard, capable of the highest of all magic ~ the dark arts. As with your father, and his father before him, we detect great potential in you. With our help, your powers will be beyond opposition. 

The Dark Lord's powers, being almost completely restored, will be employed in great rewards for your service. Join us, now ~ a meeting will be held under the second phase of the moon one month from now, at midnight in the Dark Forest. Your attendance is requested ~ indeed it is recommended ~ with the understanding that, if you are caught, we will deny all knowledge of your person, and of this great organization.

May Lord Voldemort's powers reign long, and may he endure in greatness for ever.

~ Your Brother in the Skull"

Underneath the signature was emblazoned the Dark Mark. Draco stared at the grinning skull with the snake curling out of its mouth. He took a deep breath and reread the letter. His heart was beating rapidly, though he couldn't be sure if it pounded because of excitement or of fear. After reading the letter for a third time, he rose and strode to the fireplace in the Slytherin common room. He gave one last glance at the Dark Mark, then tossed the letter and envelope into the fire. As it burned, green smoke curled into the air, and a foul smell filled the room.

Draco sank into one of the black armchairs that stood near the fire, and rested his forehead on his knuckles. He stared blankly at the stone floor for a long time, a battle erupting in his mind. He had always known that his father was a Death Eater, and that it was expected of him to join the Order of the Skull, as well. He had imagined this day over and over, thinking how wonderful it would be when he was invited to become a member of this elite organization.

However, now that the time had come, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He thought of Felicity. What would she say if she knew he was a Death Eater? Of course, if he were to become a member, she wouldn't know, would she? After all, it would be a secret, known only to the other members. He knew that, if he refused the invitation, his father would be livid. Indeed, Lucius Malfoy was counting on his son to follow in the family tradition. All of the Malfoys had been employed by Lord Voldemort, and to have his own son deviate from the path would be a matter of utmost disgrace for Lucius. Draco could almost hear his father now: _"Damn you, Draco! You disgraceful maggot of a boy! After all I have given you, and despite all of the power I offer you, you choose to blacken the name of Malfoy forever! You have no spine! I curse you for your dishonor - you are no longer my son! Get out of my sight…"_

Draco sighed, his father's angry face swimming in his mind. He could feel his eyes burning as hot tears forced their way up. He hated his father for signing his life away. From the moment Draco had been alive, Lucius planned his son's whole existence around the Death Eaters. Horrid memories began to surface in his head - all of the times his father had beaten him, simply for asking questions, as all children did. All of the harsh words he'd endured. All of the dark, frightening meetings that Draco had been forced to attend as a little boy. 

A tear rolled down his pale cheek, and he wiped it away bitterly. His mind was made up. He would not be a Death Eater. He would not give his father that satisfaction. 


	20. House Guest

The room was very dimly lit: only a few candles burning on the table, and a dying fire spitting ash into the chimney. The curtains were drawn against the dusk outside, and they fluttered gently with the evening breeze. Slowly the door to the dark room opened, and a trembling house-elf entered, carrying a silver tray laden with a goblet of some foul-smelling liquid. The poor elf, scantily clad, crept up to the arm of the large chair that stood before the glowing embers in the fireplace. A low hiss issued forth from the tall, thin figure sitting in the chair, and a pale hand with long, bony fingers reached out and took the goblet from the elf's quaking hands. With that, the house-elf scurried away, leaving the man to sip his drink thoughtfully.

He drank deeply from the goblet, his red eyes focused on the curling smoke of the fire, cat-like pupils dilated. It felt good to drink again, to feel the hot liquid pour down his throat, and taste the bitter flavor on his tongue. As he swallowed the last sip of the drink, his slit-like nostrils flared with a breath that was as rancid as the drought. He let the heavy goblet drop from his fingers, and it clanged onto the cold stone floor, then rolled off into the shadows, as if trying to get away from the dark figure of a man. He tapped his long fingernails on the arms of the chair, his eyes still fixed on the fireplace.

The door opened once more, and a tall man dressed in elegant black robes swept into the cold room and came to the side of the chair. "I hope you are comfortable, my Lord?" he asked, casting a sideways glance at the evil face of his esteemed guest. The red eyes flicked in his direction, then focused again on the embers.

"Yes, this has been a fine waiting room, Lucius," answered Voldemort in an ice-cold, hollow voice. "I am sure my quarters prepared by now?"

Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat and ran a clammy hand through his white-blonde hair. "Very nearly, Lord," he said. "My servants are just making up the bed." Voldemort nodded slightly, and tapped his long fingers once again on the chair. 

"How long must I wait, Lucius?" he said in an irritated, yet eerily calm voice. "I have traveled far, and wish to have rest. Perhaps I'll take your bed, and you may wait for your servants to finish their preparations. I'm certain you won't mind staying in the guest quarters."

Lucius nodded. "Certainly, master, certainly. Please, let me show you to my, uh, I mean, your room." With that, Lucius waved an arm toward the door.

"Tired of my company already, Lucius?" asked Voldemort, turning his pale face to his host. His thin lips were curled in a vicious smile. His face, though very thin, could not really be considered ugly. He had a small, pointed nose, a delicate chin, a proud brow. With the exception of his burning red eyes, he might almost be described as fair in appearance. Indeed, in the infamous days of his power, he was a very handsome man, with strong features and a charming demeanor. However, his 'rebuilding' had given him a frail, thin body, and an almost skeletal face.

"Tired, Lord?" asked Lucius, taken by surprise. "No, master, no, I could never tire of your gracious company. Indeed, you honor me by visiting my humble home." 

Voldemort raised a pointed eyebrow at Mr. Malfoy and rolled his evil eyes. "Well, I did need somewhere to stay while I wait," he said in his cruel voice. "This will do, I suppose. Thankfully, I won't have long to wait - my servants are already employed in the implementation of my plans. They've infiltrated that blasted school, and are watching _his_ every move." By now, Voldemort seemed unaware of Malfoy's presence, and was talking low and fast, as if to himself. His red eyes were aglow with evil visions. "Potter will be my most exquisite victim… yes… he'll suffer as I have suffered. He'll pay, I promise. He'll feel my wrath coursing through every fiber of his scrawny being…"

Lucius had backed away a few steps. Though he greatly admired Lord Voldemort, he feared him even more. He watched with bated breath. His master's breath came in quick spurts as he muttered imperceptibly. Finally, Voldemort stopped talking and turned his wild gaze on Lucius.

"My room, if you please," he said quietly, rising from the chair. Lucius nodded and led the Dark Lord to his bedroom. Voldemort went into the room and slammed the door, without another word to his host.

Lucius stood gaping at the door for a few moments, before turning and hurrying down the dark hall. He went down several flights of stairs, all lit by iron torches, and came finally to a large sitting room, in which a woman sat, crocheting. She looked up as Lucius entered the room, and set her work to the side. She stood up and brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face. "Does Lord Voldemort approve of his room?" she asked in a meek, though steely voice.

"He approves only of the best," answered her husband. "I have given him our room, and we shall stay in the guest room while he is here." Mrs. Malfoy's face darkened for a moment, though she nodded.

"How long will he be staying?" she ventured. Lucius turned an angry glare on her.

"As long as he likes, Narcissa," he spat. "You should be more grateful that he has graced our home with his presence! Honestly, woman, sometimes I think you are the stupidest, most unthankful witch in creation!" 

Mrs. Malfoy just nodded, turning her blue eyes to the floor. After a moment, having shrugged off her husband's usual insults, she looked up at him again. "Would you like some tea, darling? Or something to eat? I know you've had a trying day, and -"

"No, thank you!" growled Lucius. He stalked over to his favorite armchair and flopped into it like a very large child. 

"Is something the matter, Lucius, dear?" asked Narcissa timidly. Her face, however, looked somewhat less sympathetic. Lucius cast a wary glance at the closed door of the room, as if making sure he would not be heard.

"It's just that I - not to be ungrateful for Lord Voldemort's presence here - but, I feel very offended that he has chosen others to act as his spies. Why should I not be chosen? After all, I am one of his oldest, most loyal servants!" he whined angrily. 

"Yes, darling," spoke his wife, "but you have also the grandest home of all his servants. And you said yourself that Lord Voldemort approves only of the best. Isn't that right?" Lucius just nodded, staring at the cold stone wall. Mrs. Malfoy ventured to say more to try to comfort him. "And, remember, Lucius, that a great honor will soon fall upon our family. Is not Draco to be initiated soon?"

Lucius nodded again. "Yes, that, at least, will be something worth celebrating," he said. "It's about time that foolish boy did something useful with his life. I'm tired of his wasting my time with idiocy… He gets that from you, you know." He turned his pale, mean eyes on his wife. She just nodded. Lucius stood up and paced several times across the stone floor. Every few steps, he would cast a cautious glance upward, in the general direction of his bedroom, where his master lurked. His face became beaded with sweat, despite the chill in the air. Finally he came to Narcissa, clasped her arms in his big hands, and kissed her passionately.

He pulled away, his face still close to hers, and said in a voice barely audible: "I have a plan, my sweet…" He glanced upward again, sweat dripping from his face. "I have been thinking of this for a very long time, now," he was squeezing her arms painfully, "ever since the downfall of the great Dark Lord… If he could have such power, then why shouldn't…"

Suddenly, a huge crash sounded as the heavy iron doors burst open, shattering into pieces. Voldemort strode angrily into the room, his red eyes now lit as though flames burned behind them. Lucius released Narcissa and recoiled until his back was against the stone wall. Voldemort waved a hand and sent his servant flying across the room. Lucius slammed into the wall opposite, and his body landed with a thud on the hard floor. Mrs. Malfoy was in a corner, her hands clasped over her mouth.

"So, Lucius, you have a plan, do you?" hissed Voldemort, his nostrils flaring with rage. He raised his hand, and this time Lucius' body flung itself upward, hurled against the wall. He was pinned by magic, and he could not bring his eyes to meet those burning red ones. 

"My Lord, please," he choked out, but Voldemort held up a commanding hand.

"Your Lord?" he spat in his cruel, cold, inhuman voice. "My dear Malfoy, one does not plot _mutiny_ against his _Lord_…" He clasped his icy fingers around Lucius' neck. "Trust me, you do not want to feel my wrath. I should kill you now for such ideas - I know I should not miss your putrid stench, oh no, I should not. However…" He swiveled his scarlet eyes toward Narcissa, who now just stood dumbfounded. "I think death would be much too lenient…" he pulled a long, thin wand out of his robes and prodded Lucius' forehead with its sharp tip. _"Crucio!" _he hissed, and released Malfoy's neck. Lucius collapsed to the floor and writhed in unimaginable pain, too overpowering even to scream. 

Then Voldemort turned to Narcissa, and approached her slowly. Her arms fell to her sides as she looked up to meet his evil gaze. "Yes," murmured Voldemort, grinning eerily at her, "you are lovely… I think I would like you to be my own." Narcissa backed away, uncontrollably shaking her head. "No?" jeered Voldemort. "Why, am I too overwhelming for you? Do my endless powers not sound attractive to your greedy ears, woman?" He raised his wand toward her. She covered her face with her shaking hands and sank to the floor. Peering through her fingers, she saw Lucius still squirming in agony on the ground. Then she turned her face up to Voldemort, who towered over her, poised to strike like some horrible snake. She slowly rose, her face hardening.

"My Lord," she said coolly, "I am in your service."


	21. Fieldtrip to Hogsmeade

The next few days at Hogwarts passed rather uneventfully. There had been no more sign of the strange man who had frightened Felicity three nights before. She noticed that people began to whisper rumors that she had made the whole thing up just to get Harry's attention. It made Felicity angry to think that no one might believe her. Indeed, she had been the only one who saw the cloaked figure, and she sometimes got the feeling that even Harry and Ron doubted whether it had really happened. Ron nonchalantly suggested that perhaps she'd dreamed the whole thing.

Harry was still worried about why Felicity might be making his scar burn. It didn't happen every time she came near, but often enough to make him wonder. He didn't tell her about it, for he knew she would feel guilty. Or, as Ron irritatingly suggested, she might sprout horns and fangs and transform into Voldemort. "Well," Ron said witheringly at Harry's disgusted glare, "it could happen."

Draco was as mean as a Hungarian Horntail since receiving his invitation to evil. He had told no one about the letter, even when Goyle had badgered him about it. Draco had simply snapped at his fellow Slytherin and stalked away, hands thrust angrily in his pockets. He didn't even have the heart to talk to Felicity. He knew how she was: she'd ask him what was wrong and when he told her that nothing was wrong, she would, in her gentle manner, coax it out of him, and then when he told her what had happened and all about the letter, she would scream in his face and run away from him, horrified.

Saturday morning dawned with a beautiful, crystal clear sky. The air was chill and crisp with the quick coming of winter. All of the students from third years up to seventh awoke early and began happily getting ready for their trip to Hogsmeade. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Felicity were among the first to set out. Felicity had decided not to bring Orion, to everyone's great relief. The Bandywit had become most annoying of late, always pestering the four of them for bits of food or to let him play with their wands. Harry had caught him on one occasion pulling the wand out of his robes during Potions, and when he had shooed the Bandywit away, he'd received detention from Professor Snape for disturbing the class.

The walk to Hogsmeade wasn't long, and the students walked cheerfully, their cheeks rosy from the cool breeze. "I say we hit the sweets shop first!" said Ron, rubbing his stomach. "Breakfast this morning just wasn't enough!"

"I think I'll buy a new broom today," said Harry thoughtfully. Ron cast a quick, green-eyed glance in his best friend's direction. He wished he had the money to buy a new broom - or a new anything for that matter. They arrived on the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade among a throng of other Hogwarts students. Zonko's Joke Shop was ransacked immediately by George and Fred. They came out talking enthusiastically about one day owning their own practical joke company. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed, remembering the twins' try at entrepreneurship two years before, when they had been cheated by an ex-pro Quidditch player. 

They went in and out of the various shops, munching on chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor-Beans. Hermione purchased a new book about Arithmancy, and Felicity treated herself to a pretty new sweater. Ron was saving what little money he had for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Harry led them into the Quidditch Megastore, where he spent nearly an hour trying to decide between two brooms. "I really like the looks of the NeoFlight 900," he said thoughtfully to himself, "but I've always wanted a Phoenix Flier." Felicity came to his side.

"The Phoenix Flier is a great broom," she said. "I've never had any problems with mine. But, you do have a point about the Neo. It's pretty smooth looking." 

"Thanks for the helpful advice," Harry gibed, and shook his head, smiling. Ron and Hermione were in the robes section. Ron was fingering the sleeve of a Chudley Cannons team jersey, autographed by Nigel Hornthrossel, one of his favorite players.

"One day, when I'm rich and famous, I'll buy the whole Chudley Cannons team," he said wistfully. Hermione smiled.

"I hope that you can," she said sweetly, and pecked him on the cheek. "Come on, let's go and see if Harry's made up his mind, yet." They found Harry and Felicity at the large counter in the front of the store, where Harry was counting out gold Galleons. The store clerk, a tall, muscular wizard wearing black-and-white striped referee robes, was wrapping a sleek NeoFlight 900 in brown paper. After Harry had made his purchase, the four friends went down the street to the Three Broomsticks, and took a table in the corner by a window.

The waitress approached them, and they ordered a round of butterbeers and some raspberry pie to share. Harry and Ron broke into a lively conversation about Quidditch, while Hermione perused her new book. Felicity listened to the boys for a while, before she noticed a very sullen Draco Malfoy sitting by himself in the back of the restaurant. She excused herself from her friends, and made her way to his table. He was sitting with his chin rested in his hand, his gray eyes staring blankly at the wall. He didn't notice her approach.

"Draco?" she said softly, putting her hand on his arm. He started and looked at her confusedly, as if he had forgotten where he was. Finally he managed a small smile.

"Hello, Felicity," he said. "Nice day, huh?" His voice was tinged with sadness. 

"Do you mind if I sit down for a while?" asked Felicity. Draco shrugged his shoulders and she pulled out the chair next to him. "So," she said, "how are you?" He turned his brooding eyes on her thoughtfully.

"As well as can be expected," he said unconvincingly. "Won't your _friends _miss you?" he asked, tossing his head in Harry's direction. Felicity shook her pretty head.

"Nah," she said. "They're busy talking guy stuff. I noticed you were alone and wanted to come and keep you company… You could come over there and join us, you know."

"Ha!" Draco rolled his eyes. "Felicity, I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't exactly adore Potter and the Weasel. Not to mention that bossy Mudblood that's always fawning over Weasley." he said nastily. Felicity frowned.

"It was just a suggestion," she said quietly. The look on Draco's face told her he was struggling with something. "Draco, are you okay, lately?"

He surveyed her face for a while before answering. "Felicity," he said finally, leaning forward on the table, "stay away from me." Felicity's mouth dropped open slightly. 

"But, why-" she began.

"No!" he shouted at her. Several people nearby turned around, and Draco cleared his throat. He lowered his voice. "No. I'm not a good person, Felicity. I'm a Malfoy, and nothing _good_ has ever come from the Malfoy family. I'm dangerous, and hanging around me will only do you harm." 

"Draco, please," said Felicity, feeling terrible for her friend. "I know you don't get along with Harry and Ron, but that doesn't matter to me. You're not a bad person."

"Oh, you think you know me that well, do you?" spat Draco. "You know nothing about me, you silly girl. You'd trust a Grindylow if it smiled at you. Why don't you listen to your friends? They've all told you how horrible I am, and they're right! I'm rotten!"

"No, you're not, Draco!" argued Felicity, her face filled with worry. "What happened that's got you so upset?" Draco stood up and slammed his fists angrily on the table. 

"Nothing! Why don't you just listen to me, dammit! Stay away from me, do you hear? I'm warning you! Come near me again, and I swear I'll - I'll - just STAY AWAY!" With that, Draco spun around and hurried from the restaurant, leaving a stunned Felicity behind. She watched him stalk out of the door, then sat for a moment, taken aback by his strange behavior. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried over to the table. 

"What happened?" asked Hermione. "We heard Malfoy yelling, and saw him run away just now." Felicity looked like she might cry. Her friends were all staring at her confusedly. Harry looked angry, not at her, but at Malfoy.

"Something is wrong with Draco," Felicity said quietly. "We have to try to help him. Please, I know you all hate him, but you have to trust me when I tell you that he's really not all bad… He needs our help."

Just then, Hagrid entered the Three Broomsticks, stooping to fit through the door. He looked around with his twinkling eyes, and upon spotting Harry and company, made his way to the back of the restaurant. 

"Oi, Harry! Ron, Hermione, Felicity," he said, methodically rattling off their names. "Mind if I join yeh for a bit?" he asked. Harry glanced at Felicity, and, seeing that she had calmed and seemed to be okay, nodded his head. Hagrid pulled an extra chair from a nearby table and sat down, Ron, Hermione, and Harry sitting as well. 

"Didn't know you'd be coming to Hogsmeade today, Hagrid," said Ron with a smile. "I thought you said you were going to use the day to mend the water sprites' tables."

"Oh, right, right," said Hagrid with a sniff, "well, you know them little buggers… They don' take much to make 'em happy. Jus' took a little mendin' here and there." They all nodded.

"So," continued the half-giant, "have yeh heard any more about that strange figure Felicity saw up in Gryffindor tower?" 

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. Felicity watched as a strand of his unruly black hair fell across his scar. "Professor McGonagall's been posted in the common room all week, and she's seen nothing."

"Strange," said Hagrid, shaking his shaggy head and looking at each of them in turn. "Well, ya never know… it might very well have been a dream, right, Felicity?"

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling her cheeks turn pink. "That's what everyone seems to think," she said glumly. "But I know what I saw, and he was trying to get into Harry's room."

Hagrid raised his eyebrows in an incredulous fashion. "Well, I'm not tryin' to say that I don' believe ya, Felicity," he said. He turned his beady eyes on Harry. "So, Harry, how've yeh been? Yeh haven't been to visit me in a bit, so I was jus' wonderin' if things are goin' well."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, everything's all right. But I just came down to your hut yesterday for tea, remember?" Hagrid's eyes widened for a split second, then he nodded, shaking his bushy beard.

"Right, right, I remember," he said gruffly. "Anyway, I had a question fer yeh."

"What is it?" Harry asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Well, I've got some difficult work to do on my, eh, roof," said Hagrid. "I'm mendin' some o' the shingles, and it's a bigger job than I thought. So, I was wonderin' if yeh could come around, say, Monday night and gimme a hand."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Since when was a roof a big job for Hagrid? "Uh, sure, Hagrid, I'd be happy to help… but why at night?" he asked.

"Well, I've got a lot of stuff to do during the day, so night is the only time I can find to take care o' my own chores," answered Hagrid. 

"All right, then," said Harry, "Monday night - we'll be there."

Hagrid's eyebrows raised and he fingered his beard. "Oh, well, I won' need all that help," he said, casting a glance around at Felicity, Ron, and Hermione. "I think jus' you and me can finish the job fair enough." Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged.

"Oh, okay," said Harry. Hagrid smiled underneath his wily beard and stood up. 

"Well, then," he said, "I'll be off. I've got some shoppin' to do while I'm here in town. You kids stay away from that Shrieking Shack, remember! Don' wanna hafta come an' rescue yeh!" He chuckled as his feeble joke, then turned and walked away. When he reached the door, a mangy old cat came strolling past him, rubbing against his big leg. "Aww," said Hagrid, stooping to pick up the cat, "ain't you a cutie, then? Yes you are! Ooooh, what a cute ickle kitty-cat!" He nuzzled his bushy face against the cat's fur before setting it back on the ground, then he left.

"I thought Hagrid said he was allergic to cats," said Hermione as they watched him stroll away. 


	22. Passion Prevails

That afternoon, Felicity left Hogsmeade long before her friends. She told them that she had some homework to finish that she had been putting off, but they knew better. Harry watched her walk away, her hair blowing with the breeze. He knew she was off to find Malfoy, to make sure he was all right. He wanted to follow her, but resisted. He knew that, if he ever wanted a chance to be with her, he had to trust her and not pry so much. So, he contented himself with strolling alongside Ron and Hermione, who were so busy flirting that he doubted if they even noticed his presence.

Meanwhile, Felicity hurried back to Hogwarts. As she approached the castle, she scanned the lawns with her bright blue eyes, and found what she was looking for. A tall, blonde figure was leaning against a willow tree near the lake, tossing stones into the icy black water. The tentacles of the giant squid rose every now and then out of the water to playfully toss the rocks back. Felicity slowed her pace and approached Draco gently.

"Can we talk?" she said, coming to his side. Draco hadn't noticed her approaching, and jumped at the sound of her voice. 

"What do you want?" he demanded, with feigned anger. His steely eyes were fixed on the lake. 

"I just want to talk to you. To know what's bothering you," answered Felicity, putting her hand on his arm. She felt his muscles tense underneath the soft black sleeve of his robes.

"I told you to stay away from me, Felicity," he said evenly, still not looking at her. "Are you stupid? Why is that so difficult for you to understand?" He hated talking to her that way.

"Because, Draco, no matter what words passed through your lips this morning, your eyes were begging me for help!" Felicity said loudly. He finally turned his face to her. His countenance softened a little as he examined her beautiful face. Her deep eyes were filled with worry and genuine concern. 

"I… I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said gently, forgetting his plan to fake animosity. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you, that's all." Felicity looked confused, so Draco took a breath and sat down, pulling her hand gently to seat her next to him. She sat close, her knee resting against his. He tried to ignore it.

"All right, then, here it is," he said slowly, taking another deep breath. Felicity waited patiently. Draco began to spill. He told her about his father being a Death Eater. He told her about all of the horrid things Lucius had done to him. He told her about the invitation, and about his decision not to join. After this, he paused, waiting for a reaction.

"But, Draco, if you have decided not to become a Death Eater, then why are you still so upset?" asked Felicity in her innocent manner. A half smile pushed its way onto Draco's face at her naïveté. 

"By making such a decision, I've pretty much signed my own death warrant," he explained dryly. Her face darkened. "This is how my father works," he continued. "He'll be beyond angry when he finds out. He'll have me brought to the meeting of the Death Eaters against my will, and from there I will either die or be tortured until I give in. That's just the way it is."

Felicity shuddered at his words. She couldn't believe her ears, that he could talk so calmly about something like this. "Then you should go to Dumbledore," she said, "he'll be able to help you."

Draco nodded slightly. "Yes, I've thought of that," he said quietly, almost to himself. "There's something else, too… Something worse." Felicity turned nervously curious eyes on him. "Lord Voldemort has returned."

Her eyes widened at the sound of his name. "What do you mean, 'returned'?" she asked. Draco looked at her sadly.

"I mean he's back, in full body, and nearly in full power," he said. "All he needs now is…" he didn't finish.

"What?" she asked. 

"In order for Voldemort to gain his power back in full, he must - he has to - he's going to sacrifice Potter." He watched painfully as Felicity's face became shadowed with horror. He hated to have to tell her something so awful. Indeed, as much as he couldn't stand Potter, he didn't want him to die. "Don't worry, though," he said quickly, "I'm going to warn Harry."

Felicity sighed and looked out at the lake, her face drawn with worry. After a moment, she looked back at Draco. "Thank you," she said, "for telling me all of this." Draco nodded and smiled. He felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders after having confided in her. It felt good to finally be understood by someone - to be accepted without hesitation, without suspicion. "Draco, I want you to know that I won't ever tell a soul," Felicity continued. "And that I am always here for you, if there's anything I can do to help you. And don't worry about your father. Just go to Dumbledore, please, Draco, promise me you'll go to him. He can get you out of this."

Her pleading eyes were nothing compared to the warmth of her hand wrapping around his. "I promise," he said, allowing himself to be swallowed up by her eyes. There was a brief pause in which he took a breath and made up his mind. He leaned toward her, letting go of her hand and sliding his arm around her waist. Felicity was startled at first by his lips grazing hers as he gently pushed her back onto the cool grass, supporting her head with his hand. She was reluctant for a moment to return the kiss, but his sudden passion overwhelmed her, and the lids slid over her eyes as she very slightly parted her lips to greet his. His body against hers felt strong and solid - she'd never realized before how muscular Draco was underneath all his robes. She brought her hand up to the side of his face and slowly allowed her fingers to move back into his blonde hair. She had spent so many classes daydreaming about kissing Harry this way, that she had never really expected such from Draco. Still, she couldn't help but savor the rapture of his embrace.

Draco felt such a warm thrill run through his body that it almost frightened him. He'd never felt this way before, and the strange tugging in his chest startled him, but pleased him at the same time. He was lying half on top of her, and could feel her chest rise and fall with exuberant breaths as they kissed. She tasted so good. He felt her fingers comb gently through his hair, and he wished with all his soul that this moment would never end.

"What the hell?!" blasted forth a familiar voice from nearby. Startled, Draco lifted his head to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing a few feet from them, aghast. Felicity and Draco both hurried to their feet, faces burning red with embarrassment. Ron glared at Draco with an expression of utmost contempt, while Harry and Hermione just gaped, jaws dropped.

"Um, we, uh," Felicity murmured, not really knowing what to say. Harry held up a hand to stop her.

"Don't," he said in a voice mixed with anger and confusion. "Just don't." He turned and stalked away, headed for the castle. Ron took a few steps closer to Draco.

"Don't mess with my friends, you dirty son of a-"

"Ron!!!" interrupted Hermione, rushing to Ron's side and taking hold of his arm. She glared at him angrily, then turned to Draco and Felicity. "We're, uh, sorry to have intruded," she said sheepishly. She gave Felicity a weak smile, and looked at Draco with a confused but not altogether hateful expression. Then she dragged Ron away, scolding him for his hot temper.

Felicity and Draco just stood in awkward silence for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. Finally, running a hand nervously through his hair, Draco spoke: "I'm sorry, Felicity," he said softly. His eyes met hers. "I don't know what I-"

"It's okay," she interrupted, smiling warmly at him. His heart melted. She was so perfect, so kind and sensitive. She could just as easily have slapped him in the face and stormed off after Potter, but she didn't - she smiled! The light breeze blew a strand of her dark hair across her face, and Draco reached out slowly to move it. He noticed a faint light about her neck, and saw with joy that she was wearing the star he'd given her.

She turned her eyes up to the sky, and realized that it was getting dark. "Well," she said shyly, "I guess we'd better get to supper."

"Yeah," Draco said, "I suppose we should." With that, they headed toward the castle side by side. They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. They entered the Great Hall and, giving each other a small smile, went to their separate tables.


	23. The Mimic

Supper that evening was terribly awkward for Felicity and Harry. Ron and Hermione tried to start up lively conversation, but to no avail. Harry barely cast a single glance at Felicity throughout the whole meal, and she could feel the anger emanating from him. She was greatly disturbed.

She had really been starting to be very fond of Harry, and was certain she wanted to be more than friends. But that had been before today. Draco's kiss had confused her immensely. The whole experience kept playing over and over in her mind as she picked through her food: Draco's lips hungrily pressed against hers; his body on top of her… the sadness in his face as he'd told her his horrible dilemma. 

Ron was still livid at Malfoy. He leaned in toward Hermione and mumbled through his mouthful of food, "I don't care what you say, I'm gonna pummel that git until he screams for mercy. Look what he's caused. Look how upset Harry is, and Felicity, too."

"Oh, Ron, stop it," Hermione whispered back, holding her goblet in front of her mouth. "You don't know what happened, none of us knows. Just leave it alone."

"Leave it alone? Hermione, you know how horrible Malfoy is! If we hadn't come along just then, who knows what he might have done to her? He really could have taken advantage of her, I mean, after all, he's a lot stronger than her, and-"

"Ron! Good grief, you're daft, aren't you?" hissed Hermione. "Draco Malfoy wasn't about to do anything like that, and you know it. And, to be quite honest, it didn't seem as though Felicity was struggling too hard, now was she?" Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head, then went back to eating, deciding to end the discussion. Hermione was right, and that's what bothered him the most. Felicity seemed to have been as into the kiss as Malfoy was, and Ron felt bad for his best friend. He knew how much Harry liked Felicity, and that it had to have been awful for him to see that.

Harry finished eating very quickly, then rose and left the table without a word to anyone. He cast a vicious glare at Malfoy as he passed the Slytherin table. Draco just stared back, a slight sense of triumph building up inside of him. Ron hurried after Harry, leaving Hermione to try and talk to Felicity. Harry was headed up to Gryffindor tower, and Ron took up stride with him.

"You okay, Harry?" he asked, watching his friend from the corner of his eye. Harry didn't say anything. "I wouldn't worry too much, if I were you, Harry. You know that all had to be Malfoy's doing - Felicity doesn't like him that way."

"Just leave it alone, Ron," Harry said miserably as they reached the Fat Lady. "Squiggle germs." The portrait swung forward and they entered the empty common room. Ron stayed near the doorway and watched as Harry flung himself down in an armchair. Slowly, Ron approached him and pulled up a chair next to his. He didn't say anything, deciding it would be best to let Harry speak first.

"I'd like to send a letter to Sirius," said Harry out of nowhere, "but our owls still haven't come back." Ron nodded, frowning. He had really begun to miss his silly little Pigwidgeon.

"What do you need to send a letter for?" he asked.

"I need to tell him about my scar," Harry mumbled, gazing into the nearby fire. "Ron, why can't I ever get a girl?" he asked suddenly, catching his friend off guard. Ron studied his face for a moment to make sure he was serious.

"I dunno," he answered quietly. "There are plenty of girls who'd kill to go out with you, though, you know that."

Harry rolled his green eyes behind his glasses. "Yes, all of the silly first years would love to say they'd dated the _famous Harry Potter_, wouldn't they?" he said bitterly. Ron didn't quite know what to say. "I suppose I just have a knack for choosing the wrong girls to fall for."

"That's not true, Harry," said Ron. "I know Felicity likes you - she told Hermione." Harry looked incredulously at Ron.

"Well, that's not exactly the way it's seemed to turn out," he said. "I mean, did you see they way she had her hands all in his hair? Ugh, it's enough to make me vomit!"

"Please don't," Ron joked, but Harry didn't laugh. "Look, it's like Hermione said, we don't know the whole story. Maybe he caught her off guard, and gave her no alternative but to kiss him back."

"Good lord, Ron, you really know how to make me feel better," Harry said sarcastically. He sighed. "Oh, well, what's done is done. I suppose this just means I'll have to rise to the challenge."

"Challenge?" Ron asked warily.

"Yule Ball is coming up quick," Harry said, "and I'm determined to go with Felicity. I'll show Malfoy." They sat in silence for a few minutes, gazing into the warm fire. A few people came into the common room - dinner must have been getting finished. Harry looked at the watch Hermione had given him. It's hand pointed to _Only a while left until curfew._ Harry stood up. "I'm going up to the Owlery," he said to Ron. "I'll be back in a while."

He passed Hermione and Felicity on the way out of the portrait hole, but didn't say anything. The corridors were nearly empty as he made his way up the various flights of winding stairs, to the very top of the castle. The Owlery was dark and cool, and there were only a few owls still resting on the perches. The rest were all out enjoying the night. Harry settled himself on the window sill and pulled a quill and small piece of parchment out of his robes' pocket. He thought for a moment before he began to scribble.

_"Dear Sirius,_

Things have gone really rotten. There is still no sign of Hedwig and Pigwidgeon, and that worries me. Also, my scar has been hurting a lot lately. And here's the bad part - it only burns when Felicity is around. You know, she's the American girl I told you about before. Anyway, I really like her a lot, but I'm wondering why she could be making the scar burn so badly. And today I saw her kissing Malfoy and he's such a little… But I won't bother you any more with problems - I'm sure you have enough of your own. I wish Fang and Hagrid hadn't messed up our meeting. Please send a letter back, and let me know what is going on. I am afraid, Sirius, and I'm not really sure why… 

Harry."

Harry read the letter to himself once before folding it up and handing it to one of the school owls. The bird blinked at him several times, before swooping out of the window, the letter clasped in its claws. Harry watched the owl fly off into the night, and hoped that it would find Sirius.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sunday passed very slowly, and very awkwardly for everyone. Ron and Hermione did their best to hold up conversations at meals, but ended up talking solely to each other, for Harry and Felicity were both too upset to say much. They refused to speak to each other - Harry because he was angry, and Felicity because she knew Harry was angry. They ran into Draco Malfoy several times throughout the day, and he and Felicity didn't say much to each other, either. 

Thus, the day came and went, with very little fun for the gang. Monday was spent in classes, which made things a little better. Professor McGonagall seemed to be in a good mood, and allowed them to have a little fun by turning pencils into sweets. Ron made Hermione a chocolate heart, and Harry briefly considered doing the same for Felicity, before he remembered that he was still mad at her. It wasn't that he was eager to hold a grudge or anything, but he still wasn't quite sure what to say or how to approach her. No matter how many times Ron told him that Felicity did not like Draco, he still saw flashes of her kissing him. It made him want to vomit. 

Not to mention that, today, she kept making his scar burn again. It hadn't happened at all over the weekend, but now that they were sitting next to each other in class, his head was throbbing. 

That night, after supper, Harry bid his friends goodbye, with only a quick glance at Felicity, and headed down the dark lawn to Hagrid's hut. The night air was cold, and Harry wore the sweater Mrs. Weasley had made for him underneath his robes. He found Hagrid already outside, setting up a ladder on the side of the hut.

"Hullo, Harry!" Hagrid greeted him with a wave of his enormous hand. Harry gave him a weak smile.

"Hi, Hagrid. So, ready to get to work on your roof?" he asked, wanting to get this over with so he could go back inside where it was warm. Hagrid nodded and stepped back from the ladder.

"You can climb up first, so if yeh fall, I can catch you," he said. Harry rolled his green eyes and climbed the ladder with ease. He stood, waiting on the roof of the hut while Hagrid hoisted his heavy self up. He had a hammer in his hand, and a few shingles in his big coat pocket.

"So, where do we start?" Harry asked. Hagrid looked at him strangely. 

"Eh, I think we'll start over there, near the edge," he said slowly, his beady eyes on Harry. Harry nodded and went to where Hagrid had signaled. He bent and inspected the shingles. There was nothing at all the matter with them.

"Hagrid, these shingles are fine," he said, turning around. Hagrid was towering over him, standing so close that Harry feared he might accidentally knock him off the roof. He stood up slowly and looked up at the half-giant.

"Oh, are they?" Hagrid asked strangely. He didn't take his eyes off of Harry. He raised the hand that held the hammer very slowly, and Harry suddenly realized that he was about to strike him.

"Hagrid!" he shouted, dodging around the big man and hurrying to the other side of the roof. Hagrid spun around and advanced on him again.

"Don' worry, Harry," Hagrid said, raising his arm again. "I'm not going to kill you… Just knock you out." Harry's eyes widened as Hagrid's voice changed suddenly. The wily beard and eyebrows seemed to be shrinking away before Harry's eyes, and Hagrid was becoming thinner and a bit shorter. Finally, Harry stood facing a strange man with slick black hair and cruel eyes. His face was chiseled and stony, and a long scar adorned his left cheek.

"Who are you?" Harry sputtered, backing away from the man as much as he could without falling off the roof. The man came closer to him, still brandishing a hammer. Even the clothes had changed: where a few seconds before he'd been wearing the typical moleskin coat of Hagrid's, he now wore dark green robes.

"Who am I?" the man asked, smiling menacingly. "You'll soon find out. Patience is a virtue, you know." Harry ducked again as the hammer swung toward his head. He circled around the edge of the roof, the man staying close upon him.

Suddenly, a loud, familiar voice boomed from the ground. "What're yeh doin' up there?" asked the real Hagrid, angrily. He climbed up the ladder with unexpected swiftness, and caught the man's arm just as he had been about to strike Harry. The man whirled around and Harry gasped as he again transformed into the likeness of Hagrid. A fierce fight broke out on the roof between the two giant men. Harry scurried down the ladder and turned just in time to see both Hagrids go crashing to the ground. They jumped to their feet and continued to grapple. 

The impostor Hagrid had dropped his hammer, and now Harry couldn't tell which was which. He watched in horror as they beat each other. He pulled out his wand, not really sure what he would do with it. Suddenly, the Hagrids pulled apart and stood breathless, looking at Harry.

"Harry, get Dumbledore!" shouted one of the Hagrids. 

"Dumbledore's not here tonight, he's out of town!" shouted the other. "Just use your wand!"

"No! Don't do it, Harry! Get Dumbledore, he's here!" the first Hagrid cried.

"No, Harry! If you leave, he'll kill me! Blast him with your wand!" implored the second.

"Harry, listen to me, I'm the real Hagrid. Blast him!" said the first. 

Harry's head spun. He stood, ready with his wand, but couldn't tell which one was really Hagrid. They both kept shouting at him, pointing at each other. Harry's scar, he suddenly realized, was burning like fire. The Hagrids had gone back to fighting, and it did look as though one of them was going to die in the end. They fought viciously, and Harry became more and more confused.

"Get him, Harry!" they both kept shouting between punches. He knew he had to find Dumbledore, but it would take him too long to find his office in the castle. Plus, one of the Hagrids had said that Dumbledore was out of town. What if he was? What then?

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to block out the sound of the fighting. _Dumbledore's office…Dumbledore's office… _"Appratio!" he shouted, and felt the ground beneath his feet fall away. With a swirl of wind and a brief dizziness, he found himself standing in the familiar warmth of Professor Dumbledore's office.

To his great relief, the old wizard sat behind his large desk, reading a book. "Yes, Harry?" he asked calmly, as if Harry's sudden appearance weren't a surprise.

"Professor, you've got to come, quick!" Harry gushed between heavy breaths. "There are two Hagrids, and they're fighting!" Dumbledore's eyes darkened, and he rose quickly from his chair. 

"Where?" he asked. 

"Hagrid's hut," Harry said, and before he could say more, Dumbledore was gone. Harry Apparated himself back to the hut, and found Dumbledore standing with his wand held high. Both Hagrids were hovering helplessly in midair a few feet off the ground. Dumbledore glared at them calmly but sternly. His eyes roamed each of them over slowly, before he let the Hagrid on the right come softly to the ground. To the other, he said: "And who are you?"

The fake Hagrid glared angrily at Dumbledore, his lips closed tight. He did not transform into the man Harry had seen before. Harry thought he must not want Dumbledore to see his face. Dumbledore set the impostor down, a little less gently.

"Once more," he said commandingly. "Who are you?" The man grinned and cackled, and in a flash of white light, he was gone. "Damn. I shouldn't have let go of him," Dumbledore said angrily. Harry and Hagrid just stared at him. Hagrid's face was bloody and bruised from the fight, and he was breathing quickly.

"What just happened, Professor?" asked Harry, confused. "What was that?" The anger faded from Dumbledore's face as he turned to his student. 

"That, Harry, was a Mimic."


	24. Cat Fight!!!

Dumbledore's office was filled with warmth and comforting light from the brightly burning fireplace. Harry and Hagrid sat side by side in two large armchairs before the headmaster's desk, and Professors McGonagall and Snape stood to the right, wearing looks of utmost concern. Hagrid's beard was still matted with blood, and his left eye was becoming quite swelled. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his elbows rested calmly on the mahogany, Fawkes on his shoulder.

"Now, Harry, tell us everything," he said in his calm, comforting voice. Harry cast a quick glance at Hagrid before he began.

"Saturday, when we were at Hogsmeade, I was in the Three Broomsticks having a butterbeer when Hagrid - or who I thought was Hagrid - came in and spoke to me for a while. He asked if I would come to his hut on Monday night, alone, to help him mend the roof," he explained. "I thought it was a bit odd for him to need my help for something as simple as that, but I said that I would help him if I could.

"So, tonight, I went and he met me outside and told me to climb the ladder. I got onto the roof, and there was nothing wrong with any of the shingles. And then he came at me with a hammer and took a swing at my head. I was just barely able to get away from him, and then the real Hagrid -" he paused to motion to Hagrid "- came and then they started fighting. And one was telling me to run and get you, Professor Dumbledore, while the other was saying that you were out of town on business. But I knew it was worth the chance, so I Apparated myself to your office… I hope that's okay," Harry finished sheepishly, knowing that Apparation was forbidden outside of the classroom.

Dumbledore's silvery eyes twinkled. "That's quite all right, Harry," he said, then turned his gaze on Professors Snape and McGonagall. "Well, what do you think?"

"Definitely a Mimic," murmured Snape, shaking his head. 

"I thought all the Mimics had been captured long ago, Professor," said McGonagall.

"Yes, Minerva, so did most," answered Dumbledore. "I had an idea that there were probably a few left free, but never expected one to turn up here."

"Professor?" Harry broke in. Dumbledore regarded him patiently. "What exactly is a Mimic?"

"A Mimic, Harry, is a wizard who has the ability to take the form of any living thing. They are very rare, even more so than Parselmouths, and very dangerous. Not only can they mimic the shape, but, as you have witnessed, even the voice and personality. They are very difficult to spot, which is part of what makes them so dangerous. You are lucky that the real Hagrid came when he did." Dumbledore watched Harry's face for a long time. 

"Professor, if I may," said Snape, "where did it go? How did it get away?"

"Sadly, Severus, the Mimic escaped due to my own idiocy. I had him locked with a hovering charm, but let my guard down and released him," said Dumbledore with a sigh. "I shouldn't have been so trusting." Harry watched as Snape's face darkened: he looked extremely angry with the old wizard. Perceiving this anger, Dumbledore leaned forward and gazed anxiously at Snape. "What is on your mind, Severus?" he asked calmly.

"Well, Albus," began Snape hesitantly, "it just seems as though more and more lately you've been letting your guard down. I'm beginning to think you've gone soft! First you let the Bandywits remain, and now this?" He finished with unmasked exasperation. Harry's ears pricked up at the mention of the Bandywits. Perhaps now he would learn more about them.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. "But I have learned my lesson, and will most definitely tighten security."

"Then you will have the Bandywits sent away?" asked Professor McGonagall hopefully. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"We've yet to see what role they play in all of this," he said sternly. "I wish them to stay until we know for sure what they are about."

"But, sir," broke in Hagrid, who had been silent until now, "why do we have to keep 'em around to see what they're about? You said yerself that you didn' want the students to bring 'em, an' that someone tampered with the supply lists. So, we know what they're about - they must be part of the enemy's plot!"

Harry's emerald eyes widened. "You didn't ask for the Bandywits, Professor?" he asked the headmaster. Dumbledore took a deep breath. He obviously hadn't wanted to bring up the subject in front Harry.

"No, Harry, it was not I who wanted the sixth years to bring Bandywits," he explained patiently. "Someone intercepted the letters and changed them, though we have yet to learn why." There was a long pause in which everyone chewed over his or her own thoughts.

"There's something I have to tell you," Harry said presently. Dumbledore nodded, his eyes fixed on the urgent face of his student. "My scar has been burning more than ever lately, and only when Felicity Dizzle is around," Harry gushed.

The professors exchanged dark looks. "Do you mean to say that Felicity is making your scar burn?" asked Professor McGonagall worriedly. She and Snape both knew what that pain meant for their pupil. Harry shrugged.

"I thought so at first, but then, it doesn't happen every time she comes near… Just sometimes," he said.

"And do you notice a difference in her between the times your scar burns and the times it doesn't?" Dumbledore asked. His glittery eyes were studying Harry seriously. "Think hard, Harry," he said softly. Harry closed his eyes. He tried to picture her, and to recall all the times her presence had bothered his scar. Finally he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said glumly. Dumbledore smiled.

"Not to worry, Harry," he said soothingly. "But from now on, I want you to pay great attention to the times your scar does ache and the times it doesn't. We will also keep a close watch on the situation." Harry nodded, and Dumbledore surveyed Hagrid's pummeled face before adding, "And Harry, my boy, might you have that little bottle I gave you on hand? I think Hagrid might do with a bit of healing."

Harry smiled and withdrew the shining Pegasus Tears from his pocket.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It seemed that Harry's weary head had just hit the pillow when he awoke to Ron shaking him. He had not left Dumbledore's office the night before until very late, and even after that, he'd had difficulty falling asleep. His mind had been too busy whirling.

He opened his eyes and gazed blearily at his best friend. "Come on, Harry!" Ron was saying, "we've got to get to Transfiguration - we've got a test this morning!" At this, Harry sat bolt upright and reached for his glasses. He scrambled out of bed and hurried into the bathroom where he quickly washed his face and dressed, trying his best to tame his wild black hair.

He and Ron, along with Neville, Seamus and Dean, rushed out of Gryffindor Tower and through the drafty corridors to Professor McGonagall's classroom. Hermione and Felicity were already seated and were talking quietly when the boys entered. Harry glanced quickly at Felicity before taking a seat, then turned his eyes to McGonagall. 

Draco and his gang of Slytherins sat at the back of the classroom, where Draco could easily keep his eye on Felicity. He hadn't spoken to her since the kiss, and was beginning to get the sickening feeling that she was avoiding him. 

"All right, class," said Professor McGonagall, "as you all know, today you'll be tested on your ability to transfigure yourselves into inanimate objects. I am going to pair you up to practice, just in case something goes wrong. You'll take turns transforming yourselves into feather dusters and then changing back to your original state. When you have each successfully performed the spell three times, you'll come to my desk and do it once more before me, at which time you will be graded. All ready?" The class gave a general murmur of readiness. "Right, then, I'll call out the pairs."

The professor pulled a long sheet of parchment out of thin air and began to rattle off names. She paired Ron with Draco, much to the disgust of both students, Hermione with Neville Longbottom, Felicity with Pansy Parkinson, and Harry with Seamus Finnigan. When she had finished counting off the entire class by twos, she released them to begin.

Ron and Draco headed to the rear of the classroom, where they scowled at each other threateningly before beginning. Draco went first. With an air of superiority, he closed his eyes, uttered _"Alterus personae," _and with a tiny popping sound, clattered to the stone floor. Ron gazed down at the feather duster that was Malfoy and rolled his eyes. Then, as quickly as he'd changed before, the yellow-plumed duster jumped up and took back the form of the blonde boy.

"Well, Weasel, your turn," drawled Malfoy lazily, surveying his fingernails. Ron performed the spell successfully, as well, much to the irritation of his partner.

Meanwhile, poor Neville was having a horrible time. Hermione had gone first to show him that it wasn't so hard, and had transfigured herself into quite a pretty little duster with purple feathers a carved wooden handle. When she took back her original form, she nodded to her partner encouragingly. "Remember, just concentrate on the duster, and be sure to enunciate your spell," she said.

"But how do I change back?" Neville asked nervously. "A feather duster can't say a spell!"

"You'll still have your mind, even if you won't have your mouth," Hermione patiently explained. "You do the same thing then, just concentrate on becoming human again, and it'll be a piece of cake!"

Neville looked incredulously at her before squeezing his eyes shut. He took a deep breath. _"Al- alterus personae," _he managed, and to Hermione's delight, he turned into a simple yet unmistakable feather duster. 

"Good," she coaxed, bending over the duster, "now just concentrate and come back." The duster twitched and rolled over. "That's it, try again." After a few moments, it twitched again, then gave a jolt and transformed back into Neville - sort of…

"Oh, Neville!" cried Hermione, clapping her hands to her face. The boy looked back at her, alarmed. 

"What? What's wrong?" he asked with a shaking voice. Hermione slowly gestured to his head. Reaching up, Neville felt large, fluffy feathers where his brown hair should have been. Several Slytherins nearby were sniggering behind their hands as he gave a horrified cry. Professor McGonagall rushed over, hands on hips.

"Oh, Mr. Longbottom…" she said, looking as though she, too, might be trying to suppress a laugh. She turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, please take Neville to the hospital wing. I think Madame Pomfrey will have something to cure this - problem."

Hermione nodded and put her arm comfortingly about Neville's shoulders, leading him from the room. "Really, it's not so bad, Neville," she was saying as they entered the corridor. "They're very nice feathers…"

Harry and Seamus were having fun trying to outdo each other by varying the color of their feathers. Harry had gone twice, and had managed to become dusters with both green and orange feathers. Seamus had been about to try stripes when they saw, with some innocent amusement, Neville's new coif.   
Felicity, however, was not having such an easy time. She had transfigured herself into lovely dusters, all with glittering jeweled handles, which delighted Professor McGonagall. "Very nice, Miss Dizzle," the wizened witch had said as she passed the pair. But in between transfiguring, Felicity had to deal with harassment from Pansy.

"You just think you're something special, don't you?" the Slytherin girl asked tauntingly as Felicity turned back into her own form.

"What do you mean?" Felicity asked coolly, regarding the large girl with less than friendly eyes. Pansy leaned over her menacingly.

"You know exactly what I mean," she said in a cold, quiet voice. "You think I don't see what's going on? I'm not blind, Yank. I know you kissed Draco. I know you're after him. But he is mine, do you understand?"

Felicity put her hands on her hips and glared back at the Slytherin. "Excuse me? _Yours? _Okay, first of all, I don't recall ever having seen a sign on Draco claiming that he belongs to _you,_ and secondly, I didn't kiss him - he kissed me."

"Oh, well that just makes you _wonderful_, then, doesn't it?" spat Pansy. "I'm not playing games with you, Dizzle. You stay away from him, do you hear? Touch him again and I'll-"

"You'll what?" demanded Felicity challengingly. Pansy leered at her, her eyes narrowed.

"Just try me… I dare you," she said. Felicity rolled her pretty blue eyes and shook her head. 

"Get a life, Pansy," she said. "And while you're at it, get a facial."

A wild shriek rang throughout the room as Pansy lunged at Felicity, grabbing a handful of her long hair as she knocked her to the stone floor. Everyone stopped what they were doing to gather around the two girls. Pansy was on top of Felicity, tugging childishly at her pretty hair. Suddenly, with a rather un-lady-like exclamation, Felicity raised her hands, palms outward, toward Pansy and with an unexplainable burst of magical force accompanied by an ear piercing thunder clap, sent the large Slytherin girl flying through the air. Pansy hit the wall opposite with a thud and slumped to a heap on the floor. 

Felicity stood up and tossed her hair over her shoulder, glaring across the room at her foe. The silence hung so thick you could almost see it as the class, along with Professor McGonagall, surveyed Felicity with awe. Finally, McGonagall mustered her speech.

"Miss Dizzle!" she cried. The anger in Felicity's eyes quickly melted to fear as she turned toward the professor. However, the look on Professor McGonagall's face as she approached Felicity was not one of fury, but of wonder.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but - I -" began Felicity, but faltered as the teacher regarded her with amazement. The students all remained silent, waiting to see what McGonagall would say. Pansy, too, had risen and stood near the wall, shaken and confused.

"Can you tell me how you did that?" asked Professor McGonagall finally. Felicity's eyes flicked in Harry's direction, and he nodded to her encouragingly.

"I - it's just something I can do," she said quietly. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Felicity sat nervously in a large armchair. After the fight between her and Pansy, Professor McGonagall had completely forgotten the planned examinations, and had dismissed the class, asking Felicity to come with her. And now here she sat, in the headmaster's office, waiting. She just knew she'd be expelled and sent home to the United States. Her father would be furious. She felt like crying, but was too nervous to muster the tears. 

Finally, Professor Dumbledore entered the brightly lit room and took his place behind the large mahogany desk. Professors McGonagall and Snape entered as well, and stood beside him. Snape's arms were folded smugly across his chest.

"Good morning, Miss Dizzle," said Dumbledore cheerfully, leaning his elbows on the desk. His silver-blue eyes twinkled at Felicity in a way that made her relax a little.

"Good morning, Professor," she said shyly. This was her first meeting with the headmaster. Dumbledore glanced up at Snape and McGonagall before speaking again.

"I hear that you performed quite an amazing feat this morning, Felicity," he said calmly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Felicity gulped. "Yes, sir, Pansy Parkinson and I were - uh - arguing, and she jumped on me and was pulling my hair, so I… pushed her off."

"Yes, so you did!" Dumbledore said amusedly. He chuckled good naturedly, and McGonagall followed suit. Snape just gazed at her under furrowed brows. Felicity was greatly confused. She had come in here expecting to be expelled, and instead found the headmaster laughing and smiling keenly at her.

"Um, Professor Dumbledore?" she asked meekly. "Am I in trouble?"

"Well, Felicity," said Dumbledore, sobering quickly, "I do not in any way condone fighting among my students, however…" he paused and glanced again at the teachers. "How long did you say you've had this - power?"

"I've been able to do it as long as I can remember," answered Felicity. "It hasn't always been this strong, but…" she trailed off. Dumbledore and McGonagall were gazing at her with amused and mystified expressions, while Snape continued his suspicious glare.

"Miss Dizzle, have you ever heard of an Auror?" asked Dumbledore suddenly. Felicity nodded. Of course, she had heard of Aurors. She'd learned all about their constant war against the Dark Arts. Professor McGonagall moved closer to Dumbledore and put her hand on his shoulder. She smiled proudly down at Felicity.

"The power you have exhibited is one that only Aurors possess, and it takes a very talented and powerful magic to accomplish such a thing," explained Professor Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling more than ever. "I think, my dear, that you are destined for greatness."


	25. An Evil Gathering

Draco lay in bed with his hands propped behind his head, staring blankly up at the high, dark ceiling of his dormitory. He was alone in the room: Crabbe and Goyle were still out in the Slytherin common room. Draco knew they wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. No, they were too excited about the scheduled meeting that was to be held in the forest in just a few short hours, under the full moon.

That day had been horrible for Draco. He was plagued by his decision not to attend the Death Eater gathering. Plagued not out of regret, but out of fear. He had barely spoken a word to anyone throughout the entire day, preferring to keep to himself so as not to have to listen to several of the other Slytherins whisper excitedly about the gathering. Crabbe and Goyle were among those who were eager to finally meet the Dark Lord face-to-face. Draco was disgusted. 

Pansy Parkinson had cornered him after lunch and invited him to meet her in the entrance hall that night, so they could walk together to the meeting. Draco had shot her a withering look and shook his head before stalking angrily away. How could these people be so eager to join evil forces? But then, until just a few short weeks ago, he had been just as keen to become a Death Eater.

Not only was he bothered by what consequences might befall him for not attending the gathering, but he was also worried about where he stood with Felicity. He was almost afraid to talk to her, for fear of rejection. Indeed, right after the kiss, he had been certain that she felt the same way - after all, she'd kissed him back. But then, she had not spoken more than three words to him during the days since. He wondered if she had been expelled for flinging Pansy across the room. A slight smile curled his lips as he pictured the stupid girl flying through the air. He hadn't seen Felicity since Professor McGonagall had marched her away to Dumbledore's office.

Draco closed his weary eyes and pulled his black and green covers up to his chin. He decided to try to sleep, despite the worry that was gnawing at him ceaselessly. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep before a pair of very large hands roughly shook him. He opened his steely eyes and found two masked figures looming over him. With a start, Draco sat up and backed away against the headboard of his bed. One of the figures reached up and lifted his grotesque mask to reveal the grinning, ignorant face of Goyle. Draco's eyes narrowed angrily.

"What do you two want?" he growled. "Can't you see I was sleeping?"

"Sorry, Malfoy, but it's time to go," came a hoarse whisper from behind Crabbe's mask. 

"Yeah," continued Goyle, "we've been assigned to bring you to the gathering." Draco's pale eyes widened.

"You - what?" he asked in a voice that he hoped shielded his fear. Goyle took hold of his arm and pulled him roughly out of bed, while Crabbe opened Draco's trunk and rummaged for his robes.

"Lord Voldemort seems to think that you were planning on skipping the meeting," explained Crabbe, tossing the robes to Draco. "So, he told us to make sure you attend."

Draco glared angrily from one idiot to the other, trying to decide if they were serious. "Just let me be, boys," he said evenly. "I'm going back to sleep, and pretend this never happened." He turned back to his bed, but one of the pair grabbed him while the other yanked the black robes over his pajamas. 

"If this is the way it has to be," said Goyle as he steered Draco from the dormitory, "then so be it."

Draco struggled all the way out onto the lawns, but his two captors were much larger and stronger than he. Finally, he gave up and allowed them to roughly guide him across the dark lawns and into the black abyss between the trees of the forest. A growing sense of dread was bubbling up inside him as they neared the gathering place. How had they already known that he planned to skip the meeting? His father had probably wanted to employ Crabbe and Goyle in accompanying him, just in case his son decided to smudge the esteemed name of _Malfoy_.

They came to a wide clearing in the trees, at the center of which burned a large bonfire. Many masked Death Eaters were already gathered in a broad ring around the fire, and Crabbe and Goyle joined the circle, keeping Draco close between them. There was no sign of Voldemort, yet, but Draco spotted his father standing opposite him. There seemed to be something wrong with the once tall and proud-postured Lucius, for now he was leaning heavily on a crutch, and his head hung low. Despite his dislike for his father, Draco felt a pang of sympathy for him. He wondered what had happened.

Soon, the gathering was complete, with the exception of Lord Voldemort. Draco was shocked at the amount of familiar faces he saw as one by one they lifted their masks. Now that they were in the safety of the forest, the ugly masks were no longer needed. Pansy Parkinson was present and eager to earn her place among the ranks. There were several Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students, and even a couple of Gryffindors, one of which Draco recognized as the Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan.

To Draco's astonishment, a man stepped up a few feet away from him and removed his mask, revealing the sharp and scowling face of Professor Snape. _I thought he'd quit the Death Eaters long ago_, thought Draco. Snape cast a quick glance around the circle, his dark eyes lingering on each of the students from Hogwarts. The eyes focused on Draco, and a flash of sadness was barely perceptible on the professor's visage.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of white light and a _bang!_ and Lord Voldemort stood in the midst of the gathering. He stood tall and grotesque, his pointed face and red eyes turning this way and that, surveying his followers. Everyone bowed low, and Goyle pushed Draco, causing him to stoop as well. Draco thought the air around them had lost all warmth as soon as the Dark Lord had appeared. The large, curling flames no longer let off any heat. Rather, an ice-cold breeze seemed to issue forth from Voldemort's very form.

"Welcome back, my worthy servants," he hissed in a cold, empty voice that sent chills up Draco's spine. Voldemort paced around the fire as he spoke, so that he could look into the eyes of each of his followers. "It has been far too long since our last meeting, and my powers are nearly complete!"

The crowd of Death Eaters cheered and raised their arms in hail, causing their sleeves to slip back to reveal the ugly Dark Mark branded on their wrists. Voldemort nodded and curled back his thin lips in a triumphant smirk. Finally the cheers died down, and the gathering once again became sullen and still.

"Our plans this time are great," spoke Voldemort, still pacing, "greater than ever before! I have called for the aid of the vampires, the giants, and even a few carefully selected goblins!" More cheers from the crowd. "We have successfully infiltrated the school," the Dark Lord continued, his slotted nostrils flared. "And once I have Potter in my grasp - which will be quite soon, rest assured - my powers will be returned in full! That boy was my end, and now he will be my new beginning!

"We are in contact with our international colleagues, and they, too, are working to restore the Dark Rule throughout the world. Tonight, I have brought forth an esteemed guest - a wizard who has proved my most loyal servant in the United States circle." He paused to wave a hand toward a tall, handsome man wearing scarlet robes. "Please welcome Thomas Dizzle!" The man bowed low as the rest of the Death Eaters clapped and cheered him in welcome.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. Dizzle? It couldn't be…

"Master Dizzle has tremendous weight in the decisions of the United States Wizards' Democracy," Voldemort went on. "He is a member of their Senate, and is working to persuade their President of our just and worthy cause."

Draco's heart sank. Dizzle was Felicity's father. She had told Draco before that her father was on the United States Wizards' Senate. He wondered if she knew of his affiliation with the Dark Lord. He gazed once more around the circle, and was relieved to find that Felicity was not present. Perhaps Mr. Dizzle had had enough courtesy and care for his daughter to shield her from this evil.

His eyes fell again on Lucius. He felt a pang of hurt in his heart as he silently cursed his father for being a Death Eater. Lord Voldemort went on talking, and Draco was only half paying attention when he heard the word "Mimic" uttered in the high, frigid voice of the Dark wizard.

At this, Draco turned his attention back to Voldemort. He had heard of Mimics before, and knew they were rare and powerful. He wondered what role they might play in Voldemort's plan.

"I employed a Mimic in keeping an eye on Potter, and in bringing him here to me," Voldemort was saying. "I would like now to hear his report. Snyder?"

A man stepped forward from the shadows and gave a short bow to Voldemort. He was short and very thin, with jet black hair and a bristling moustache. His glittering, beady eyes shifted to and fro as he spoke: "My lord, I have been in the presence of the boy since the beginning of the school year, under the guise of his friend's Bandywit," he said. "Indeed, it was the daughter of our guest, Mr. Dizzle, that chose me out of the other Bandywits, and she has been carrying me with her everywhere in a bag on her shoulder." Mr. Dizzle gave a nod, as though he had known of his daughter's role in this matter all along. 

Snyder continued. "Four days ago, I followed the boy to Hogsmeade, and spoke to him, as I was disguised as his half-giant friend. I persuaded him to come and help me mend the roof, and when he came I nearly had him - but the real half-giant came unexpectedly and began to fight me. Thus, Potter escaped." He turned his black eyes to Voldemort nervously as he uttered the last sentence.

But the Dark Lord looked pleased despite the failed capture of Harry Potter. He nodded curtly to Snyder and then allowed his coal-red eyes to roam around the circle of Death Eaters. "Snyder will take his place once more in the role of the Bandywit, and will continue to watch Potter," he said. Then he spun with a swish of his green robes and gave a wild cackle. "Now for the moment that our younger guests have been waiting for… The Initiation."

Draco could feel Crabbe and Goyle shudder with excitement on either side of him, and he caught an enthusiastic wink from Pansy. His heart began to beat rapidly. What should he do? What could he do? It seemed as though he would have to go through with the horrible initiation, whether he wanted to or not.

Voldemort called all of the students into the center of the circle. Crabbe shoved Draco before him. There were twelve students in all, and they stood in a rigid row before Lord Voldemort. "So, you wish to join the glorious ranks of the Order of the Skull?" asked the Dark Lord in his silkiest, most evil voice. With the exception of Draco, all of the students nodded enthusiastically. Voldemort smiled a cruel smile. "But how am I to be sure of your intentions?" he asked. A dozen young bodies stiffened nervously. 

Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out a long, dark wand. He gazed lovingly at it and ran it under his delicate nose, breathing in it's crisp, wooden scent. "Before being initiated, you each must undergo an interrogation, under an Honesty charm. _I_ will put you under the charm, and _I _will do the questioning. If your responses are to my liking, you shall be welcomed into this great organization, and receive the honor of the Dark Mark," he said, marching back and forth before the line of students. "If, however, I find your intentions ill, you will receive due punishment!" An honesty charm, Draco knew from his years of paying close attention in Potions, was stronger than any veritaserum. 

He made his way to one end of the row and raised Pansy's chin with the tip of his wand. Draco saw Pansy's father, Mr. Parkinson, standing proudly among the ranks, watching hopefully as his daughter prepared to be initiated. Voldemort then waved his wand in her face and muttered, _"Candorus compellion!"_

Pansy's face went rather limp and her eyes became glazed as they stared straight ahead at Voldemort's hollow chest. He cleared his throat. "State your full name."

"Pansy Arabellia Parkinson." 

"And where is your allegiance?"

"My allegiance lies with the Dark Lord."

"Good… And what are your motivations?"

"Power… to rid the world of Muggles."

Voldemort gave a shrill, pleased laugh. "And Harry Potter… What of him?"  
"He is all that lies between the Dark Lord and ultimate power," Pansy murmured. "May his name be cursed forever."

Voldemort nodded and with another wave of his wand, released her from the charm. Pansy blinked and looked around, momentarily disoriented. Voldemort clapped a thin but strong hand on her shoulder, and smiled his evil smile at her. "You have passed, girl," he said. "Now, go to the fire and receive your Mark."

Pansy nodded and stepped boldly up to the bonfire. She took a breath and then rolled back the left sleeve of her robes. A hooded man stepped forward with a brand that had already been sitting long in the fire. With a hissing sound, he pressed the brand into her skin, and she bit her lip as the cursed skull with the snake curling grotesquely out of its mouth became embedded in her wrist.

Next came Goyle's turn, and he passed. Crabbe next, and he, too, passed. Draco became more and more nervous as Lord Voldemort moved down the line, and as each of the students allowed their skin to be marred forever by the red-hot brand. Lee Jordan's turn came, and Voldemort regarded him more suspiciously than the others.

He put Lee under the charm and began to question. "Are you a friend or a foe of Potter's?"

"He trusts me as a friend, but I am his sworn enemy under the Dark Mark."

"And what of your friends, the Weasley twins?"

"I… they are indeed my friends, but you are placed always before them."

"And what if they were to find out about your - affiliation?"  
"I'd kill them." Draco shuddered as these sickening words fell from Lee's mouth. But they seemed to please Voldemort, for he then released the Gryffindor boy from the charm and sent him to be branded. It was finally Draco's turn. 

Voldemort surveyed him long and hard before speaking. _"Candorus compellion!"_ he spat, and Draco felt his frightened mind begin to numb. Voldemort's voice no longer seemed cold and harsh, but rather far off and dreamlike.

"Your name?" asked the Dark Lord.

"Draco Malfoy."

"Ah… Malfoy… Are you proud of your name?"

Draco hesitated for a split second, before the charm overpowered him. "I used to be, but now I hate it." 

A general murmur of shock made its way around the circle of Death Eaters, and Lucius' eyes bulged angrily. Voldemort smiled in cruel amusement. "Why do you hate your name?"

"Because Malfoys are evil… Everyone hates Malfoys."

"I see… And you do not like evil?"

"No, I do not."

Voldemort's tone was slowly changing from amusement to anger. "Then why are you here?"

"Because Crabbe and Goyle forced me to come."

"What about Potter?"

"He's an arrogant pratt." A few sniggers could be heard from within the ranks of the gathering. Voldemort, however, did not laugh.

"So, you wish Potter to come into the grasp of the Dark Lord?"

"No… I want him to escape."

The red eyes flashed with malice. "Will you tell him of my plans?"

"Yes, if he will listen." 

During the whole horrible interrogation, Snape watched with bated breath. He wished Draco would just stop - just lose his ability to speak. He did not want to be here, as it was - he had only come because Dumbledore bid him do it as a spy. But to watch his favorite pupil be punished by Lord Voldemort was almost more than he could bare. 

Voldemort's red eyes were aflame with hate and anger as he finally released Draco from the honesty charm. Draco's heart was pounding. He had no memory whatsoever of what he had said, but by the look on Voldemort's face, he knew that he had not passed.

A very long silence ensued and Voldemort gazed maliciously at the boy, as if trying to decide what to do. No one in the circle dared to move. Pansy looked as though she might cry.

"Well, well, well," Voldemort said finally, "it seems as though your mind is very much made up, boy… You are determined to help Potter, and to disgrace your father more than he has already disgraced himself." With these words, he flicked his angry eyes in Lucius' direction. Mr. Malfoy just glared at Draco, not making any sign of wanting to save him from whatever punishment Voldemort had in store.

"Young Master Malfoy," the Dark Lord continued, "you have made yourself the enemy of Lord Voldemort - a dangerous path, indeed. If you are prepared to be my foe, then you must be prepared to suffer the consequence of this decision… Death!" No one made a sound. The moment was surreal as the words slowly sank into Draco's mind. He felt as though his legs had turned to lead, and that his heart had stopped beating already. He glanced pleadingly at his father, but Lucius was stone-faced, prepared to watch his only son die.

Voldemort took a few steps backward and raised his wand. His lips curled in a wicked grin, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut. This was it. This was how he was going to die. He only wished he'd had the chance to warn Harry - to prevent Voldemort from gaining back his full power.

He heard Voldemort draw in a breath, preparing to utter the ultimate curse. 

He heard a familiar voice scream "NO!" 

He heard a rush of footsteps in his direction just as the words, _"Avada Kedavra!" _escaped Voldemort's lips. 

And then he heard a shriek of pain, and saw a flash of green light through his closed lids. The last thing he heard was Snape falling to the ground by his feet, before his own consciousness slipped away.


	26. Bad News Over Breakfast

Felicity stood before the mirror in the bathroom of her dorm, combing her long hair. She hadn't told anyone yet what Professor Dumbledore had told her. It was still a shock. She'd had those powers all her life, and had never considered them to be any different from what any other witch could do. And now to know that she was destined to become an Auror - well, it was just odd. "I'll tell them at breakfast," she said to her reflection.

"Tell who what?" asked Hermione as she entered the room. She, too, took her place before the mirror to do her morning grooming. Felicity hesitated.

"Well, I really wanted to tell you and Ron and - and Harry all together, but I suppose I can tell you now," she said. "You remember the fight in Transfiguration, right?" Hermione nodded, eyes wide.

"Yes, and we were all afraid you'd be expelled!" she said as she loaded her toothbrush with paste.

"Well, I was sent to speak to Professor Dumbledore," Felicity explained, "and he asked me to tell him all about my, um, powers. And Snape and McGonagall were there too, and I was very confused because none of them looked angry - actually, they all seemed excited. And then Dumbledore told me that what I did to Pansy was a power only Aurors possess."

Hermione nearly dropped her toothbrush. "So yah gonna be ah Auwah?" she asked through her mouthful of foam. Felicity nodded.

"Yes, that's basically what Dumbledore was saying. He told me that I was 'destined for greatness'." Her cheeks turned rather pink at this, and she tried to hide a proud grin. 

When they had finished getting ready, the two girls headed excitedly down to the common room, where they found Ron and Harry waiting near the fireplace. Ron greeted them both with a cheerful 'hullo!' and pecked Hermione lightly on the cheek. Harry just gave a short nod. Felicity sighed. She was tired of not speaking to him. She turned to Ron and Hermione. "Can I have a minute with Harry?" she asked. Hermione and Ron nodded and looked at both her and Harry meaningfully before leaving for breakfast.

Harry watched them walk away, glanced quickly at Felicity, then turned his eyes to the fire. "Harry, why won't you speak to me?" Felicity asked, her arms folded across her chest. Harry looked at her grumpily.

"Why do you think?" he answered, folding his arms too.

"Look, Harry, I know you don't like Draco, but that doesn't meant that I have to hate him too," Felicity said.

"Well, you don't have to love him, either," Harry spat. His face turned instantly red.

"So you're just angry with me because Draco kissed me, is that it?" 

"Good call, Felicity," Harry said, "you're a smart one, you are." Felicity rolled her blue eyes.

"Oh, please, Harry, don't act like such a jerk," she said angrily. "You know nothing about what happened, so I don't really think you have the right to be so angry."

"I know what I saw, Felicity," he growled. 

"Yeah, and what about it? What goes on between me and Draco is none of your business, just like whatever happens with me and _you _is none of _his_," said Felicity.

"Do you like him - that way?" Harry asked suddenly. The anger had left his voice; it was an honest question. Felicity bit her lip.

"I… I don't know," she said truthfully, her eyes dropping to the floor. Harry just stared at her. After a moment, she looked up. "All I know is that I don't want you to hate me over one little kiss, Harry."

For a split second, Harry considered debating the statement that it was a 'little' kiss, but decided against it. He sighed. "I don't hate you, Felicity," he said. "It's just that I - I like you… a lot." He could feel his face redden even more. There was an awkward silence in which their eyes wouldn't meet.

Finally Felicity smiled and held out her hand. "So, we're cool?" she asked. 

"Yeah," said Harry, and took her hand in his. Suddenly, she released his hand and instead gave him a hug. Harry's heart leapt as he put his arms around her, and he was relieved that they were finally back on good terms. After a quick grin at each other, the two friends went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

By the time they joined the rest of the Gryffindors, Ron and Hermione were nearly finished with their meal. Hermione looked meaningfully at Felicity. "Everything all right?" she asked quietly. Felicity nodded and smiled. "Good, then why don't you tell the boys the news?"

"What news?" asked Ron brightly, and he and Harry both leaned forward on the table. So, Felicity told them in a quiet voice all about her meeting with Dumbledore.

"Wow… an Auror…" Ron said, a bit of butter on his lip.

"That's great, Felicity!" Harry said cheerfully. _Gosh, she's pretty!_ he thought as she smiled warmly at him. Hermione just nodded, looking proud that she was the first to know.

"Hey, Harry's got some news, too," said Ron suddenly, "though his isn't so good." The girls' eyes widened and they looked expectantly at Harry. He cast Ron an irritated glance. He'd wanted to tell them in a more private place.

But, as they were all now gawking at him with eager faces, he went ahead with his recount of what had happened on the night he'd been attacked by the Mimic. He told them also about his meeting with Dumbledore, and about how he'd found out that it wasn't Dumbledore who'd wanted the Bandywits after all.

"Oh, Harry, you're so lucky the real Hagrid came when he did!" cried Hermione in a shrill whisper. They were doing their best to shield the conversation from their surrounding classmates. 

"That reminds me," said Felicity, her brow furrowed, "I can't find Orion anywhere. He's been gone for a couple of days, now."

"Welcome to the club," said Ron gloomily, "Harry and I still haven't seen our owls." 

Just then, up at the head table, Professor Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat commandingly. The hall hushed quickly as all faces turned toward their headmaster. Harry noticed that the old wizard looked very tired and very worried. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes had great circles underneath, and his usual cheery face was drawn and dark. So, too, were the faces of all the other professors. Harry ran his eyes down the long table, and noticed an empty chair where Snape usually sat.

When all the talking had died away, Dumbledore spoke: "My dear students," he began in a sad and serious voice, "I am afraid there has been a terrible accident." A wave of whispers made its way through the hall, and Dumbledore waited for it to ebb before he continued.

"Last night, in a manner which I will not disclose to you at this time, Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy were both greatly injured." More whispers. "They are in the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey is doing all she can for them. Young Master Malfoy shall be fine again in a few weeks, but I am afraid that Professor Snape's condition is much worse. While I believe he will survive, I think it will be a long time before he is recovered."

This time, the whispers were replaced by outright bedlam, as everyone began to wildly discuss the news at once. Pansy Parkinson was sobbing at the Slytherin table, next to Crabbe and Goyle, who sat stone-faced, staring blankly into their porridge. Harry looked at Felicity, who had gone suddenly pale. She was staring at Dumbledore as if expecting him to chuckle at any moment and tell them it was all a big joke.

Dumbledore waited for a few moments before raising a hand to silence them. The noise died quickly. "We will continue classes as usual, and a substitute will be placed in Professor Snape's Potions course. Madame Pomfrey has asked that visitors only come during your lunch period, as the patients need their rest." With that, the headmaster gave a short bow and left the Great Hall, his hands clasped pensively behind his back.

As soon as he'd left the hall, there was an eruption of worried, excited voices as everyone speculated on what could have happened. Even Ron, who loathed both Malfoy and Snape, wore a troubled expression. "I wonder what kind of accident?" he said, wide-eyed.

"I think I have an idea…" said Felicity quietly. But she would say no more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After Care of Magical Creatures that morning, Felicity told her friends she'd meet them at lunch, then hurried up to the castle, ahead of the rest. She made her way through the winding corridors and dark staircases, and all she heard throughout the castle was whispering about the big news. Even the ghosts were upset over the 'accident' and once or twice Felicity even overheard the paintings discussing it with hushed voices.

Finally, she reached the Hospital wing, and slowly opened the heavy door. Madame Pomfrey was bent over a trembling first-year who had fallen and cut his leg, and she looked up when Felicity entered. The plump witch nodded toward a bed on the far right that was covered by curtains. "Only a few minutes," she said sternly, and Felicity made her way to the bed.

She pulled back one of the curtains and stepped up beside the bed, where Draco lay motionless. His arms, which lay down by his sides, were paler than usual, and his unconscious eyes were open just the slightest bit. He seemed alright, except for a large bandage taped to the side of his neck. Felicity noticed with a pang of sadness that there were very few cards or gifts on the little table at his feet. She reached out and placed her hand over his.

"You're going to be okay, Draco," she said softly. He didn't move. "I think I know what happened, or at least part of it," she continued, "and I'm so, so sorry. But Dumbledore says that you'll be just fine in a few weeks, Draco." She sighed and watched him sleep. She didn't notice when someone came up beside her.

"How is he?" asked Harry quietly. Felicity jumped and turned to Harry, who was looking with pity at Draco.

"Oh, he's going to be okay," she answered, smiling at him. She was glad to see him here - proud of him for putting aside his dislike. Harry just looked at Draco.

"Hey, man," he said presently, "I hear you got whipped pretty bad. But they say you'll be all right." He glanced sideways at Felicity, then looked back at the sleeping Draco. "You've got to be okay," he continued with a good-natured smile, "because who else am I going to compete against in everything?"

Felicity gave a soft little laugh and looked for a long time at Harry. "Thanks," she said finally. Harry turned his emerald eyes to her. 

"For what?" he asked. She smiled.

"For being you."


	27. Orion

The school awoke a week before the Yule Ball to a thick white blanket glistening over the entire Hogwarts grounds. Snow was still falling in silent flurries as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff third years made their way down the vast lawn to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Hermione shuddered and pulled her cloak close about her, while Ron wrapped a warm arm tightly around her shoulders. 

"I wonder what the new lesson will be?" said Ron as they approached the snow-covered hut. Hagrid had announced at the end of their previous class that they had finally finished with the water sprites, much to the dismay of the students. The sprites were the most pleasant creatures Hagrid had ever introduced to them in his course.

"I don't know," answered Felicity through chattering teeth, "but I hope it's something that breathes fire!"

Harry smiled. He desperately wanted to pull her close to him and keep her warm, as Ron was doing for Hermione, but he knew he couldn't. She still had not told him any more about her feelings for Draco, and he didn't want to be pushy. He was, however, planning to ask her to be his date to the Yule Ball. Since Draco was still unconscious in the Hospital wing, he didn't think it would be a problem.

Hagrid met the class with a cheerful grin. He was bulked into his heavy moleskin coat, and his massive hands were covered in tough dragon-hide gloves. "Mornin'!" he greeted the shivering students. There was a mumbled 'good morning' through twenty-something pairs of chattering teeth. "I got a real Holiday treat fer yeh, today!" announced Hagrid. He led them around to the back of the cabin, where a great fir tree stood, leaning against the wall of Hagrid's hut.

"Gather 'round, gather 'round," he said, gesturing for them to move in closer. They did so gladly, feeling warmer in the huddle. "Now," Hagrid continued, "this is a tree that I'd like ter use in the Great Hall as a Christmas tree. But before I can bring it into the castle, we've got to get all the Needle Wumps out of it."

"The what?" asked several students. People near the back of the group were standing on tip-toe to try to get a better view.

"Needle Wumps," Hagrid repeated. "They're very small, irritating little buggers what like to live in nice fir trees like this one." He paused and began to preen through the thick boughs. Finally, he pinched something small and green between his big fingers and held it up for the class to see. "This is a Needle Wump."

The little creature looked, at first glance, exactly like a fir needle. Then, the students began to notice that the thin, green animal was squirming to get out of Hagrid's firm grip. It had tiny eyes that protruded bulgingly from its narrow body. It did not appear to have any arms or legs, nor any sign of a mouth.

"They love ter live all hidden in fir trees, and then when yeh get yer tree all decorated up nice for Christmas, they take to unhooking yer ornaments and smashing them to the ground. They ain't too dangerous, but their little heads are very sharp, so yeh'll need ter wear yer dragon-hide gloves when yeh're getting 'em out of the tree." As he spoke, the angry Needle Wump bent its thin body and began fiercely jabbing Hagrid's gloved hand with its sharp head.

After a few minutes, the class had all replaced their mittens with thick gloves, and were digging methodically through the tree, pulling out Needle Wumps as they found them. Hagrid dragged another, smaller fir tree out of the forest, and instructed them to release the Needle Wumps into this one instead. It was boring, tedious work, and the students entertained themselves by talking excitedly about the upcoming Ball.

Harry found himself releasing his Needle Wumps into the spare tree at the same time Felicity was releasing hers. He seized the opportunity. "So, the Ball's coming quick, huh?" he mumbled. Felicity cast a quick, amused glance at him.

"Yes, it sure is," she answered nonchalantly. Harry cleared his throat.

"So, I was, um, wondering if you would like to go with me," he said in a rush.

Felicity's pretty cheeks reddened slightly, and she became suddenly very focused on placing her last Needle Wump on just the right branch. "Of course! I would love to," she answered, too bashful his eyes. Harry's heart leapt, and he felt greatly relieved. Felicity was smiling shyly. Suddenly, she gave a short chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd ask," she said. "I was beginning to think I would have to ask you!"

Just then, a streak of gold and blue scurried out of the forest and pelted into Felicity's back. Spinning around, she found her Bandywit sprawled on the ground, rubbing its head where it had run into her. "Orion!" she cried, and stooped to pick up the little creature. "Orion, where have you been?"

The Bandywit's eyes flicked in Harry's direction before answering. "Orion got chased again by that Shummy, and I's been hiding in the trees so Shummy wouldn't _kill_ Orion!" it squeaked shrilly.

"I don't think so," said Harry, ignoring the dull ache that had suddenly decided to plague his forehead. "Shummy's been up in my room, locked in his cage." The Bandywit's tiny eyes flashed.

"You calls Orion a liar!" he cried. "Harry Potter lies! Wants Orion to be hurted by his Shummy!" The pain grew worse in Harry's scar. Slowly, like a fog creeping across the ground, a realization dawned in Harry's mind. His eyes widened and he stared warily back at the glaring Bandywit.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Felicity asked. Before he could answer, Hagrid approached and clapped a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder. 

"All right, you two?" he boomed. "Class ended a few minutes ago." Ron and Hermione came up behind Hagrid and looked questioningly at their friends.

"Oh! You've found Orion!" said Hermione as she spotted the Bandywit sitting now on Felicity's shoulder. Felicity nodded, smiling broadly. 

"Yes, he's been hiding in the forest!" she said. "Now let's get inside. I'm freezing!" They bid goodbye to Hagrid and made their way back up the lawn, the snow crunching beneath their shoes. It was time for lunch. When they reached the Entrance Hall, Harry stopped.

"Hey, Ron, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked. Ron nodded, and the girls went ahead to lunch.

"What's up?" Ron asked, noting the strained expression on Harry's face.

"You remember when I told you that my scar hurt when Felicity came near?" Harry said. Ron nodded, his eyes darkening.

"Does it still happen?" he asked.

"It hadn't happened in a while, but it did just now. And I think I know why," Harry explained. "Orion."

"Felicity's Bandywit?"

"Yes. Everything was fine outside, until Orion turned up. Then my scar started burning." Ron's jaw dropped slightly.

"But why would her Bandywit make your scar hurt?" he asked. "I thought it only happened when-"

"When evil is near," Harry finished. "But remember what Dumbledore told me about how someone intercepted our supply lists and added the Bandywits."

"Right," said Ron seriously. "You need to tell Dumbledore right away… Did you tell Felicity?"

"No. I don't want her to worry," Harry said. Ron shook his red-topped head.

"Well, you've got to do something before that thing hurts you - or her," he said.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry and Ron didn't show up for lunch at all. "I wonder where they've got off to?" said Hermione as the plates disappeared from the tables. "It's not like them to miss out on food." She and Felicity rose from the table and left.

When they entered the Entrance Hall, they nearly ran headlong into Harry, Ron, and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Orion, who had been perched on Felicity's shoulder, scurried unnoticed back into the Great Hall.

"Ah, Miss Dizzle," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Just the young lady we were looking for!"

"Hello, Professor," Felicity said. She glanced around at the grim faces of Harry, Ron, and McGonagall. "Is something the matter?"

"Well," Dumbledore answered, "I'll just need to take a quick look at your Bandywit. I would like a word with it." Felicity reached up to her shoulder, but Orion wasn't there. She looked around, and even checked in her bag. Orion wasn't anywhere. "Where did he go?" Felicity mumbled, still rummaging through her bag. "He was just here!"

Neville Longbottom came out of the Great Hall and looked questioningly at the serious gathering. "Mr. Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall, "have you just seen a Bandywit about?"

Neville frowned. "No, Professor," he said quietly. He was always nervous around McGonagall's stern gaze. "Why? Has someone lost one? Because when I lost Trevor-"

"Never mind, Longbottom. You may go on to your class," interrupted Professor McGonagall. Neville nodded awkwardly and climbed the marble staircase out of the Entrance Hall. Professor Dumbledore looked greatly perturbed. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, please go and find Professor Flitwick and tell him I'd like a charm placed on all exits to the castle, so that no Bandywit may pass through them," he said. McGonagall nodded and hurried up the stairs. Then Dumbledore turned back to the students. Hermione and Felicity were looking very confused. "You all had better get to class, as well. Miss Dizzle, my dear, if you happen to find your Bandywit, I want you to bring it to me immediately. Understood?"

Felicity nodded, and Professor Dumbledore left them. Harry quickly explained what was going on, much to the girls' horror. Felicity looked a little frightened at this news, and apologized to Harry for causing his scar to hurt. "Hey, it's not your fault," he said comfortingly. Then he smiled. "I'm just glad it wasn't _you_ causing the pain!" He looked at his watch, which read _'You're late,'_ and they hurried off to Apparation.

A few moments after they'd left, another Neville Longbottom peeked around the doorway before exiting the Great Hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Madame Pomfrey had dozed off in an armchair by the fireplace in the Hospital wing. A light knock on the door roused her, and she hurried to open it. Professor McGonagall stood with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her face wore an expression of worry. "I'd like to see Professor Snape," she said tersely. 

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "It's late, Professor," she said disapprovingly. "And I've not been allowing visitors to Professor Snape."

"Oh, just let me in," Professor McGonagall answered shortly. Madame Pomfrey heaved an irritated sigh and stood back to admit the professor.

"Over there," she said, gesturing to a curtained bed near a window. "But only a few minutes!" Professor McGonagall went to the indicated bed and slowly pulled back the curtain. Snape looked horrible. His black hair was matted, and dark circles resided under his closed eyes. There were still signs of fading bruises on his face, and underneath them his pallid skin was ghostly white.

Professor McGonagall stood close to the bed, staring at him sadly. She reached out and took his limp hand in hers. His skin was cold, though he was still alive. Barely. "Oh, Severus," she murmured, and a sudden rush of tears welled in her eyes. She struggled to repress a sob, for she knew Madame Pomfrey was nearby. A few hot tears splashed down her cheeks, leaving silvery trails under her square glasses. "Severus, please get well," she pleaded in a whisper. "This school needs you. Dumbledore needs you, the students need you, and… and _I_ need you."


	28. Mayhem at the Yule Ball

"It appears that much of his color has returned."

"Yes, I think he is nearly fully recovered, though that gash is a nasty one."

"It will scar, won't it?"

"I am afraid it will."

"I'll need to speak to him for a while."

"Headmaster, with all due respect, he needs rest."

"Poppy, he has rested for nearly three weeks."

"You'll only upset him, sir, I beg you -"

"He deserves to know what has happened."

"Of course, but I really think -"

"Shh! He is stirring!"

Draco had been just vaguely aware of quiet voices somewhere near his feet. He slowly managed to open his eyes, and could just make out the blurry faces of Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey. They were watching him anxiously. He tried to open his eyes further, but the bright light that came streaming in through a nearby window was painful, and he squeezed them shut again. His limbs felt like lead, and he was aware of a dull pain on the left side of his neck.

Finally, Draco opened his weary eyes again. He was very confused. "What -? Where -?" was all he could say. His throat was parched and it ached to speak. Professor Dumbledore came to his side.

"Shh… you're alright, Draco," he said soothingly, and conjured a goblet of cool water out of thin air. He slid his arm under Draco's shoulders and helped him to sit up enough to drink. The water felt wonderful trickling down Draco's throat. He began to feel more awake, but his mind was still fogged, and he couldn't remember what had happened. When he had finished drinking, he allowed his groggy blonde head to sink back onto the soft pillow.

Madame Pomfrey was looking very agitated, and Dumbledore politely asked her to leave him alone with Draco. The plump witch retreated reluctantly to her office, muttering her disapproval. Draco turned his slate-gray eyes to Dumbledore. "What happened?"

Dumbledore's face was serious but calm. "Do you remember nothing?" he asked gently. Draco thought for a moment. Suddenly, the fog in his mind began to lift, and a flock of horrid memories came crashing back to him. The Death Eater gathering… Voldemort's anger… the terrible curse… and Snape's shriek of pain.

"Professor Snape!!" cried Draco frantically, springing forward from the pillow. Dumbledore placed his hands on Draco's shoulders and gently held him from leaping off the bed.

"Draco, it's alright, my boy," murmured the old wizard. "Professor Snape is alive." Draco's wide eyes slowly relaxed, and he lay down again, his breath still coming in quick spurts. 

"But how -?" he asked. He had heard Lord Voldemort utter the curse, heard the dreaded words _Avada Kedavra!_, and heard Snape fall to the ground. Dumbledore smiled softly.

"Voldemort's powers are not yet fully restored," he explained. "Though his curse would be potent enough to kill one person, it simply could not go through two. But I will be honest, Draco - Professor Snape is just barely alive. And you are lucky, as well." His twinkling eyes flicked momentarily toward the bandage on Draco's neck.

"How did you find us?" Draco asked presently. 

"It was I who sent Professor Snape to the gathering, to act as a sort of spy," said Dumbledore. "I was keeping a close watch on the forest, and as soon as I saw the green flash, I came. When I arrived there, much of the gathering had dispersed, and Voldemort, disgusted at his own failure, had vanished from the scene." Draco's face was drawn. "What is bothering you, my boy?"

"It's just that… well, why did Snape do that? He - he should've just let me die. Now all of your plans are ruined, and Lord Voldemort is certain to be suspicious." Draco's eyes had welled up, and he angrily wiped the hot tears away. 

"Professor Snape acted not out of logic, Draco, but out of love," explained Dumbledore seriously. "You are no doubt one of his favorite students, and I have a feeling that Severus sees you as more of a son than a pupil." He paused to let these words sink in. "And I wouldn't have wanted him to act in any other manner. Saving your life was more important than any _plans_, Draco, and Professor Snape knew that." There was a long silence during which Draco's mind became a jumble of questions. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What now?" he asked. Dumbledore considered the question for a while. Finally, he turned his eyes again to Draco's neck. 

"Now, my boy, I think I need to have a look at your neck," he said. Draco had forgotten about the ache. Dumbledore reached out and carefully removed the bandage from the side of Draco's neck. His eyes, behind his half-moon spectacles, widened slightly. Draco reached up and felt his fingers graze over a tender, scabbed cut. He noted the look of wonder on Dumbledore's face.

"What is it, Professor?" he asked. Dumbledore retrieved a mirror from the table next to Draco's bed and handed it to his student. Draco took the mirror and gasped in shock when he saw the unmistakable shape of a lightning bolt zigzagging across his flesh. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, the rest of the students were bustling excitedly around their dormitories, preparing for the Yule Ball, which was to be held that night. They had taken their lunch in the House common rooms, while the Great Hall was being decorated for the occasion. Classes had been cancelled that day, to the relief of all of the students, and much of the day had been spent playing cheerfully in the fresh snow on the lawns.

Now Hermione and Felicity stood side-by-side in front of the long mirror that hung on their dormitory wall, admiring their appearances. Hermione wore a beautiful satin gown of a pale green color, with braided straps, and her hair was pulled up on top of her head in pretty ringlets. "I hope Ron likes my dress," she said, nervously smoothing the skirt. "My mum ordered it from Spain just for the occasion."

Felicity nodded. Her silk dress was a beautiful shade of rose-pink, and hung airily to the floor. It came off the shoulders, and looked very much like a gown one would see in a painting of a medieval princess. Her long hair was swept back into a low, elegant bun, and around her neck shone the star Draco had pulled down for her. She gave her hair one last pat and turned to her best friend. "Shall we?" she asked. Hermione giggled excitedly and they locked arms as they made their way down into the Gryffindor common room.

They found the boys waiting nervously near the fire, looking absolutely splendid. Ron had finally been able to buy new dress robes, and they were a handsome shade of deep, midnight blue. His mahogany eyes lit up as he caught sight of Hermione, and he rushed to greet her with a kiss. "You look… gorgeous!" he said breathlessly, causing Hermione to turn a brilliant shade of red.

Harry, too, was delighted to see his date. His heart picked up speed as he approached her, and for a moment he was positively speechless. He was stunned at how much she resembled a veela at the moment, and he wished he could greet her with a kiss, like Ron did to Hermione. Finally, he found his voice. "Felicity, you look so beautiful!" he said. She blushed slightly and smiled.

"You look great, too, Harry," she said truthfully. He filled out his black dress robes very nicely, and it looked as though he might've finally gotten his wild hair to tame a little. "Been working out?" she asked, noting the breadth of his shoulders. Harry flushed a little.

"Yeah, and Ron, too," he said. "We found a weight room at the top of the castle, and it looks like no one had used it in ages. So we figured we'd give it a whirl." Felicity laughed. Wizard weight sets are quite different from Muggle ones. In the wizarding world, exercise equipment yell at you like drill sergeants until you've worked so you might pass out.

"So, shall we?" said Ron as he and Hermione turned their attention back to their friends. Harry offered his arm to Felicity, and the four of them made their way out of the common room with the rest of the bustling students. Everyone looked splendid in their best gowns and robes, and the stone floors of the castle corridors echoed the _tap-tapping_ of the girls' heels. The Great Hall was simply gorgeous as they entered through the large doors: there were elegant blue and silver streamers hanging from every rafter; the enchanted ceiling was reflecting a crystal clear, starry sky; there were countless Christmas trees lining the walls, and floating candles shed a romantic light over the deep green boughs; all of the house tables had been removed to create a vast dance floor, and the teachers' table was serving this evening as a buffet, full of various cakes and sweets and drinks; a band of ghosts were assembled at the far wall, and were already playing lovely music on their translucent instruments. 

"Hullo, everyone!" said Neville Longbottom cheerfully as he approached Harry and friends. Ron's sister, Ginny, clung happily to Neville's arm, wearing a pretty blue dress that made her look strikingly grown-up. Ginny had been Neville's date to the Yule Ball for the past two years, so it was no real surprise that they turned up together again this year. Neville turned to Ginny and cleared his throat. "Want to dance?" he asked. Ginny nodded and grinned, and the two made their way to the dance floor. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched anxiously as Neville and Ginny began to dance. They were all too familiar with poor Neville's record-breaking knack for squashing toes. This time, however, he whirled Ginny around and around, waltzing with ease and grace as though he'd been dancing for centuries. 

"Well, what are we waiting for?" said Hermione, pulling Ron to the floor. Harry and Felicity joined them, and they had a wonderful time dancing to the airy music of the ghostly orchestra.

Pansy Parkinson entered the Great Hall alone, looking very sulky. She was crushed that Draco was still too weak to attend the Ball, and had refused to show up with any other boy (though not many had asked). She stalked around the edge of the dance floor, her arms folded across her chest. Several Slytherin boys asked her to dance, but she refused and became teary-eyed and stormed over to the snack buffet, where she proceeded to sob into a cup of pumpkin-berry punch.

After several dances, Harry asked Felicity if she'd like something to drink. "Yes, please!" answered Felicity, her cheeks pink from dancing. "I would love something! Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, no, that's alright," said Harry. "You stay here and have fun, I'll bring the drink to you." He hurried away toward the table, proud of himself for being a gentleman. He was just ladling a second cup of punch for himself, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned around to find Neville. "Hey, Neville," Harry said, "great dance, huh?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, and I haven't trod on my date's foot once!" he said with a grin. Harry laughed.

"Good job, Neville!" he said, then began to make his way back to Felicity, two cups of punch in his hands.

"Oh, wait!" said Neville urgently, putting a hand to Harry's chest to stop him. "I really need to talk to you, if that's okay."

"Now?" asked Harry, glancing over Neville's shoulder to where Felicity was laughing at something Ron had said. He wanted to get back to dancing with her.

"Please, Harry, it's important," pleaded Neville. Harry sighed and set the drinks on the table, then followed Neville out into the entrance hall. Neville stopped near the stairs and turned around.

"Well?" asked Harry, "what's up?" Neville's good natured smiled suddenly faded and his eyes flashed menacingly. Without saying a word, Neville pulled back his fist and swung with all his might, hitting Harry square on the face. Harry's glasses went flying into the air and landed on the other side of the entrance hall. He was still reeling from the hit and wondering what was happening when Neville came at him again. This time, Harry ducked and circled around Neville, backing away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry asked, ducking another swing. 

"What I failed to do weeks ago!" screamed Neville in a voice that was not his own. Harry's eyes widened as he began to realize what was happening. This wasn't Neville Longbottom at all. 

It was the Mimic.


	29. Captive

Harry reached into his dress robes and grasped his wand. He prepared to cast a spell - though he didn't know quite what - but before he could utter the spell, the impostor Neville shrieked _"Expelliarmus!"_ and Harry's wand was wrenched from his fist. The Mimic laughed and put Harry's wand into Neville's robes, then leveled his own wand at Harry's face. Slowly, the form of Neville Longbottom morphed into a short, dark-haired wizard with glinting eyes and a malicious smile. He chuckled darkly before he said, _"Stupefy!"_ Harry's eyes shot wide open and his face became locked in an expression of panic, before he fell rigid to the floor.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A searing pain yanked Draco out of his troubled dreams, and he sat up in his hospital bed. He put a hand over the bandage that had been replaced over the cut on his neck. It was throbbing and burning feverishly, and Draco's forehead was soaked with a cold sweat. He looked at the clock - it was nearly eight, and he knew that the Yule Ball was taking place at the moment, down in the Great Hall. He frowned, guessing that Felicity had probably gone with Potter.

Madame Pomfrey had fallen asleep in her rocking chair, near the curtained bed where Draco assumed Professor Snape lay. Slowly and silently, Draco got out of bed and slipped his robes on. He tested his feet for a few steps and found that he could walk well enough, though his legs felt a little like rubber after their long rest. With one last glance at the sleeping nurse, he stole out of the Hospital wing.

He took the many narrow staircases slowly and rigidly, his limbs stiff and aching. As he neared the Great Hall, the pain in his cut grew sharper, making him wince and press his hand over it. "Bloody hell!" he said angrily to himself, "It's just a stupid cut, Draco, don't be such a pansy!"

No sooner had he uttered the last word than Miss Parkinson herself came trudging around a corner. Draco braced himself for what he knew would come next. "Draco!" Pansy cried, and lifted her skirts as she ran up the steps, closing the distance between them. "Oh, my Draco, you're alive!" Before Draco could say a thing, she leapt at him, locking him in a painful embrace and knocking him backwards. He fell onto the hard stairs, with Pansy on top of him, sobbing into his chest. 

"Ow! Get off me, you stupid girl!" he shouted, wrenching out of her grasp. He stood up and steadied himself against the wall. Pansy just sat on the steps where they had fallen, staring tearfully up at him. He glared angrily at her, feeling the ache that plagued his body growing from the fall. Pansy moved to say something, and as she raised her hand, Draco caught sight of her newly-branded Dark Mark. He shook his head in disgust and hurried as fast as his stiff legs could carry him, still headed for the Great Hall. 

He didn't know why he was going down there. After all, he wasn't feeling well enough yet to dance, and he certainly wasn't dressed for the occasion. The pain in his cut was growing, and it almost seemed as if that was what drew him onward down the stairs. Finally he reached the entrance hall, just in time to see the heavy doors that led onto the lawns slam shut. He stood for a moment, staring at the doors, and slowly the pain on his neck decreased.

He could hear the swell of music issuing forth from the Great Hall, just in front of him, and the humming sound of many voices mingled with the notes. Suddenly, the doors to the Hall opened, and out came Ron, Hermione and Felicity. Draco's heart seemed to stop for an instant as his eyes met Felicity's. She looked like an angel. 

"Draco?" she said, rushing to him. Hermione and Ron followed, their arms around each other. Draco was surprised to see that Ron's gaze was less than hostile for once. He almost looked concerned. "How are you feeling? Are you all right?" Felicity asked after giving him a quick hug. Her hands were rested on his arms.

"Yes, I think I'm fine," he said. 

"Did you see Harry anywhere around here?" Felicity asked. Draco shook his head. Felicity bit her lip and looked worriedly at Hermione and Ron. "Where can he have gone?"

Ron's brown eyes turned sharply on Draco. "You swear you didn't see him, Malfoy?"

"Look, I said I didn't see him, Weasley, and that's what I meant," Draco growled. He absentmindedly put his hand over the aching cut.

"What's that?" Felicity asked, moving to touch his neck. Draco backed quickly away.

"It's nothing, nothing… Just a little cut, that's all," he said sharply. He couldn't let them see the lightning bolt gash. He was still having trouble believing it, and the last thing he wanted was for the three of them to worry over it. He knew Ron's hot temper would lead to a brawl, for Weasley was sure to think this was some plot of Draco's to get at Harry.

"Well, we've got to find him," Ron said, turning to Hermione, "and Neville, too. Something strange is going on, and I don't like it at all." Hermione nodded, trying to hide her disappointment at having to leave the Ball.

"Let's check the dormitory," suggested Felicity. "Perhaps he's gone there." She turned to Draco. "I'm glad to see you up and feeling better, Draco. I'm sorry, but we have to find Harry. Ron's right - something odd is happening. Harry wouldn't just leave without saying something."

Draco nodded and watched the three hurry up the stairs. He remained in the entrance hall for a few moments, something nagging at the back of his mind, before deciding with some regret that he'd better get back to the hospital wing.

"Fludder-doodle," Ron said hurriedly to the Fat Lady when they reached Gryffindor Tower. The portrait swung forward and they scrambled into the common room. It was empty, except for a few third years who were playing a card game in a corner. Ron went up to see if Harry was in their dorm room, while the girls waited in the common room. After a few moments, they heard Ron shout and they hurried up the stairs.

"What? What is it?" asked Hermione as they entered the boys' room. Ron's face had gone white and he raised a hand to point at the bed on the far left. The girls gasped when they saw two feet sticking out from underneath the bed. Ron crept slowly forward, with Felicity and Hermione behind him. He took hold of the feet and carefully pulled their owner out from under the bed. It was Neville.

"Oh, my God…" Hermione murmured, putting a hand over her mouth. Neville was bound and gagged, and unconscious. His face was swollen and bruised, and there was dried blood on his chin from where his lower lip had been split.

"If this is Neville, then…" began Felicity. Ron looked at her darkly.

"Then the Neville we saw at the Ball was the Mimic." Hermione knelt beside Neville and gently removed the gag from his mouth. She ran a hand over the ropes that bound him, then looked up at Ron.

"These ropes are charmed," she said. "We won't be able to get them off. We'd better take him to Madame Pomfrey."

"Right," said Ron. "You two take him, and I'll go and get Dumbledore. The Mimic's got Harry." Hermione and Felicity exchanged pained glances as Ron rushed from the room. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry awoke to the sound of hushed voices. He dared not open his eyes, and listened intently to what was being said. 

"I don't like this at all, Lucius."

"I don't recall asking what you do and do not like, Snyder."

"Lord Voldemort told me to bring the boy to _him_."

"Well, it looks as though you've brought him to me, doesn't it? Wise decision."

"No. I'm taking him to Voldemort."

"I don't think so."

"You're going to get us killed, Malfoy! I don't know what you're about, but I don't want any part of it. Move out of my way."

"He's staying here. Voldemort thinks he can make a mockery out of me, but he forgets that he is still weak. It is _my_ turn, Snyder. I'm sick of playing games… Now that I've got Potter, I'll have Voldemort wrapped around my little finger."

Harry shuddered. He must be in Lucius Malfoy's home. He could feel anger bubbling up inside his chest at being talked about like some object, but he forced himself to remain still. The longer he pretended to be asleep, the longer he could listen. Heavy footsteps stalked away from him, and he heard a door open with a creak.

"I wash my hands of this," came Snyder's voice tensely. "You do what you like with him - it's no concern of mine. But don't expect any help from me when our Lord finds out about this. You'll pay, Lucius Malfoy."

A soft chuckle nearby, then, "Very well, Snyder. But I would have you remember this: be mindful of your allegiance… Who knows just how long _Lord_ Voldemort will last? And when he is out of the way, you'll have to answer to me."


	30. Friend or Foe?

Christmas holidays began gloomily at Hogwarts castle. Poor Neville was sent home to his gran with a still-swollen face. Ron and Hermione decided to stay at Hogwarts and try to help find Harry. Dumbledore was hesitant to allow them to help at first, but he soon realized that there would be no stopping them, and that it would be best if they remain under his supervision rather than taking the matter into their own hands. Felicity would be spending the vacation at school as well, since her parents both had extremely full business schedules to attend to over the holidays. Her little brother, Max, was going to Florida to stay with their aunt. 

Draco had just finished packing his things, and was heading toward the Great Hall, where all the students who were going home were to meet. He wore a turtle-necked sweater to hide the remarkable scar that had been left on his neck, and was in an extremely foul mood. He didn't want to go home. He knew his father would be more cruel than ever after what had happened at the Death Eater gathering. In fact, Lucius would probably turn Draco away the moment he arrived at Malfoy Manor. 

Draco was just rounding a corner when he nearly ran headlong into Felicity, who was coming down the stairs into the entrance hall. "Oh! Hello, Draco," she said with a sweet smile. "So, I guess you're feeling better?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, I suppose," he said. He felt a strong urge to bury his face on her shoulder and have a good cry. But he decided against it. "Are you going back to the US for holiday?" he asked. Felicity shook her pretty head.

"No," she said, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. "My parents are so busy with their work that sometimes it makes me want to scream." Draco frowned. He knew what it was like to be unimportant to ones parents.

"If you ask me, you're lucky to be staying," he said, then began to continue on his way. Felicity grabbed his arm.

"Draco, wait," she said. He turned gloomily to face her. Her eyes roamed over the folds of sweater that hid his neck. "What happened to you?" she asked.

"I -- what do you mean, what happened?" Draco snapped. "You knew where I was that night. I think you can guess the rest." He tried to walk away again, but her fingernails dug into his sleeve.

"Why won't you talk to me, Draco? Why won't you tell me what's bothering you? And what the heck is on your neck that's got you so freaked out!" She looked slightly angry.

Draco wrenched his arm away from her. As much as he liked her, he didn't want her to know about the scar. He didn't want anybody to know. "Why don't you just leave me alone, Felicity?" he demanded. "Why are you constantly digging your nose into my business? If there was anything worth telling, then I'd tell you, believe me. But there isn't!" With that, he stormed away, luggage in hand, leaving a disgruntled American behind.

He reached the Entrance Hall just in time to catch up with the stream of students exiting the castle. Everyone was chatting merrily as they made their way across the grounds, their breath rising in misty ringlets in the cold air. Draco kept to himself, his teeth gritted against the thought of what awaited him at home.

The train ride was short, or so it seemed to him. He shared a compartment with Goyle and Crabbe, as always, but refused to share in their idiotic conversations. "I can belch 'Jingle Bells'," Goyle said with a stupid grin, and proceeded to demonstrate while Crabbe guffawed.

Draco watched the snowy hills roll by, his face close to the window so that each breath he released fogged the glass. Soon they were in London, and he was shivering on Platform 9 ¾. His mother emerged out of the crowd and greeted him with a stiff smile. Without a word to each other, mother and son climbed into a magical cab and headed home.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Harry hadn't been able to play possum for long. Eventually, he had to get up and eat the food that the Malfoys' house elves placed just inside the door. And he had to use the bathroom, too. He was just emerging from this facility and heading back to his favorite corner of the tiny, dungeon-like room, when he heard a car pull up outside.

He went to the small window that looked out on the west of the manor and saw Narcissa and Draco climbing out of the cab. Somehow, Harry felt a thrill of hope surge through him at the sight of Draco. Maybe he would help him out. Maybe. It struck him, however, that Draco looked just about as happy to be there as Harry. The blonde boy followed his mother up the stone walk to the door, his head hung, his feet dragging.

When they had disappeared from Harry's sight, he turned and stared hungrily at the empty plate by the door. He glanced at his watch. _"Pooky's on her way, Mr. Impatient!" _He sighed and pulled his sleeve back over the mocking face. Pooky, the house elf in charge of feeding him, had been coming later and later every day. Harry thought she had to be the laziest house elf he'd ever encountered. She skulked around in her makeshift dress, her bulbous nose turned up in the air, and would hurry for no one. He wondered that she hadn't been beaten to death by Lucius for her impudence.

Finally, the door creaked open a crack, and Harry recognized her slender arm reaching in to set down a bowl of chili. He lunged at the door and caught her by the wrist before she could leave, pulling her inside. "Oi, lemme go, Mr. Potter, sir!" squeaked Pooky indignantly. Harry released her arm, but stood in front of the door, blocking her exit.

"Pooky, you've got to get me out of here," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. Pooky's eyes widened fearfully.

"Oh, no, sir, Pooky couldn't do that, sir," she said, shaking her large head. "Pooky's got orders to feed you and that's all, Mr. Potter." She folded her skinny arms in front of her skinny chest.

Harry knelt down to be more at her level. "Pooky, listen, I know you've got your orders, but you have to understand that if you don't help me, they'll kill me," he said. Pooky gasped.

"_Kill_ Harry Potter?" she repeated.

"Sooner or later," Harry said seriously. "You don't have to let me out yourself, though. All you have to do is tell Draco that I'm here. Can you do that?" The house elf twisted nervously on her toes. She narrowed her eyes at Harry.

"And why should Pooky tell Master Malfoy and risk getting Pooky's fingers stepped on?" she said defiantly. Harry was beginning to get angry. 

"Because if you don't, then the next time you bring my food, I'll _bite_ your fingers off!" he said viciously. He hated having to threaten her, but it was the only way he could get her to listen. She backed away from him.

"But, but…" she faltered. Lowering her large eyes to the stone floor, she nodded. "All right. All right, Pooky will tell Master Malfoy that Harry Potter is here. But if Pooky's fingers get smashed, it's Harry Potter's fault!" Harry nodded and smiled thankfully. He moved away from the door and let her leave the room. When she had gone, Harry sank to the floor and took the bowl of chili into his hands. He ate it quickly and hungrily. 

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Draco climbed the many staircases to his large, elaborate bedroom. His mother had paid a ridiculous amount of money to have a famous interior design warlock come and decorate the room with all sorts of rich fabrics and plump cushions. The colors were dark and ominous, Draco thought, but Narcissa had insisted that they were "regal."

So, Draco plopped down on the edge of his regal bed and stared glumly at the regal wall. A whole month here. A wry smile crossed his face as he remembered the days when he was so proud to be here, tromping importantly through the dark, torch-lit corridors. He used to love going down to the dungeons - yes the dungeons - and playing with his father's miniature torture devices. He would spend hours chopping carrots in half with the tiny guillotine. 

He shuddered as flashes of his former self crossed his mind. There was a sharp knock on the door. "Yeah?" Draco called irritably. The heavy iron door burst open and Lucius stalked in, wearing a triumphant grin.

"Well, well, and how is my foolish boy, hmm?" he said mockingly. Draco just stared at him, stone faced. Lucius shrugged. "Well, I'm glad to see you're alive, son, but I must say that if you were stupid enough to let your mouth slip like that in front of Lord Voldemort, then you got what was coming to you."

Draco felt a surge of anger rush through him, but didn't say anything. Lucius gave a short bow and turned back to the door. "Supper's at seven," he said shortly, then left the room. Draco felt a vague tingle on the side of his neck, and pushed a hand under the turtleneck to massage the sore scar.

A slight noise behind him made him jump. Spinning around, Draco found the wooden door to the dumbwaiter opening, and a scrawny brown figure scrambling out of it. "Pooky?"

The little house elf cringed at his voice and began to bow over and over, her round nose nearly touching the stone floor. "Master Malfoy, s-s-sir," she stuttered. Draco watched her, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to continue. She paused and stared at him with watery, horrified eyes, then yelped as she began stomping on her own feet. She let out a piercing shriek with each stomp.

"What is it, Pooky?" asked Draco, somewhere between irritation and concern. The house elf finally stopped punishing herself and crept timidly forward, wringing her little hands.

"Master Malfoy, sir, Pooky has a secret to tell you, sir," she whispered. Draco leaned forward to better hear her. "Pooky knows about Master's secret… secret… _guest._"

"Guest?" Draco repeated, brows furrowed. "Pooky, who is it?"

"Master wouldn't want Pooky to tell…" she stomped once painfully on her foot, then composed herself. "Pooky promised Harry Potter…"

"Harry Potter?" Draco was confused. "What about Harry Potter?" Pooky's eyes welled again. She bit her lip and looked nervously at the door. Leaning in until her face was inches from Draco's, she whispered:

_"Master keeps Harry Potter in the West room."_

Draco took a moment to let her words sink in. The West room… Draco knew that wasn't good. His father had kept many _guests_ in that room - kept them there until they either rotted or Voldemort came to collect them. Without another word to Pooky, Draco hurried from the room. Once in the corridor, he slowed his pace and tried to make his face unreadable. He moseyed down the stairs and to the left. Then down more stairs, and then to the right. Luckily, he met no one on the way.

When he reached the West room, Draco leaned his face close to the door and called softly, "Potter?"

Inside the darkening room, Harry scrambled to the door. "Malfoy? Malfoy you've got to get me out of here!" There was silence for a moment. Then Harry heard the familiar tap of a wand on the lock and a whispered _"Alohomora."_ The door slowly opened enough to permit Draco's slight frame. He entered the room and quickly shut the door behind him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he demanded in a loud whisper. Harry disliked his tone.

"Look, it's not like I asked to be locked in here, Malfoy," he spat. There was a pause in which they each leered at the other. Finally, Harry rolled his green eyes. "Malfoy - Draco, you have to get me out. I hate to beg _you_ for help, but your father plans to use me to overthrow Voldemort."

Draco's eyes widened and then narrowed just as quickly. "What? Are you calling my father a traitor, Potter?" He was shocked by his own words. Quickly his face softened, and he felt slightly embarrassed by Harry's "give me a break" expression. "Right," he said sheepishly, "how do you know?"

"I heard him talking to someone called Snyder," Harry explained. "He was the Mimic, Malfoy. He pretended to be Neville at the Yule Ball and brought me here. They thought I was still knocked out when your dad told him he planned to take Voldemort's place. And he's going to use me as a decoy. Malfoy, you've got to help me." Harry's tone was tense and pleading. Draco stepped back and ran a hand nervously through his flaxen hair. 

"Okay, okay, lemme think," he said, pacing the small room. Finally, he stopped just in front of Harry. He stood rigid and stared at him, the boy who had been his enemy for the last six years. Draco was only barely taller than Harry, so that the two were nearly eye-to-eye. "I can't do anything."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You _what_?" he hissed. 

"I can't do anything," Draco repeated in a shaking voice. He took a breath. "Look, my father and Voldemort already have me on their black list, Potter. If I step out of line again, they'll kill me."

"And if you don't help me, they'll kill _me!_" Harry said. "You can't be serious!" Draco moved toward the door, feeling that if he didn't run now, he'd weaken. But Harry lunged at him. The two fell to the hard floor with a thud and proceeded to grapple viciously. 

"Get off, Potter, or I'll kill you myself!" spat Draco through gritted teeth. He flung Harry off him with a punch to the jaw. 

"I always knew you were rotten, Malfoy, but I never thought you'd sit back and watch someone die!" Harry hissed. He grasped Draco by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Draco let out a howling "Nooo!" as the turtleneck ripped, exposing the lighting scar on his neck. Harry froze as his eyes met the scar and widened in disbelief. There was a tense moment in which a muscle in Harry's jaw twitched angrily. He slowly let go of Draco's torn shirt and stared him in the eyes. "Oh… I see."


End file.
